The People of Panem vs Katniss Everdeen
by fnur
Summary: Katniss Everdeen was supposed to assassinate President Snow with that arrow. Instead, she shot President Coin and was remanded to custody for weeks. Only after her release did she learn that a trial was held, and she had been found not guilty by reason of insanity. This is the story of that trial and how her mentor did his best to save her life.
1. Prologue

THE PEOPLE OF PANEM, Plaintiff

v.

KATNISS EVERDEEN, Defendant

Evidence for the Prosecution: Exhibit A - Transcript of media coverage of events on February 24th, Year 76 Post Dark Days (PDD). The following televised event was aired live on all channels across Panem (expected viewership: 76,018 or 95% of the country's population)

Time: 2:45 pm, Capitol Time

CAESAR FLICKERMAN (CF): Welcome and good afternoon citizens of Panem, to our special live coverage of the scheduled assassination of former President Coriolanus Snow as our Mockingjay, Katniss Everdeen, fires the last shot in what has been a terrible, devastating war for our country. Joining me here in City Circle in the Capitol is Fulvia Cardew, special correspondent on behalf of District 13.

FULVIA CARDEW (FC): Thank you, Caesar. We are being told that we are just minutes away from the presentation of the prisoner, former President Coriolanus Snow, and the arrival of the Mockingjay and the other surviving victors and our new President Alma Coin, who will be present for the assassination on the platform.

CF: That's right. It looks like the punishment will be carried out on the terrace of the president's mansion, now the residence of President Coin and the headquarters of our new government. It's interesting that the same balcony from which Coin greeted so many young men and women who would lose their lives in the annual Hunger Games is now where our new president will view his execution. Hopefully with his death, a new era will begin again in Panem of growth, prosperity, and healing for all districts.

FC: Yes, yes Caesar. That's what we all hope for. Viewers may recall that Snow put up no defense whatsoever at his trial, and pleaded guilty on all counts of his numerous charges of war crimes, with the hope that the tribunal of judges would be merciful. However, his crimes against our nation were deemed to have been too great, and he was immediately sentenced to death by execution. The manner of execution is interesting to note - I can report insider information that both President Coin and the Mockingjay wanted to be the ones to execute Snow, and determining who would be the executor supposedly came down to a simple coin toss.

CF: Isn't that interesting? Well, the odds were certainly in Katniss's favor with that coin toss! And we can be sure that our Girl on Fire won't miss today, just as she never missed in the arena or in battle. Now, this will be Katniss Everdeen's first public appearance since her impassioned speech in District 2 several months ago when she pleaded for peace and was brutally shot on live television. Thankfully, her now iconic Mockingjay suit protected her from lethal damage. We do know that Katniss was in the Battle of City Circle on the fateful day in which so many lives were lost and the Capitol eventually surrendered. We have reports that she sustained physical damage, possibly even emotional damage from the trauma, and we were all so saddened to learn of the death of her younger sister, Primrose.

FC: Yes, Caesar - it was such a tragedy to learn of the death of young Primrose, or 'Prim' as she was called by her loved ones. I interacted with Prim many times in District 13 and found her to be a very competent medical trainee with a promising career in medicine ahead of her, and a lovely young lady who loved her older sister very much. What a tragic circumstance that she was there with the medic squad in the Battle of City Circle, despite being underage. If our viewers recall, President Alma Coin released a statement last month expressing regret for what's being called an 'unfortunate clerical error' which assigned 13-year-old Prim to the on-field medic squad that day, and said that Primrose Everdeen was dedicated to the rebel cause and died doing what she loved - taking care of others and doing her part to dismantle the Capitol regime for the future of Panem.

CF: A true inspiration, just like her older sister. I'm interested to see how Katniss has been healing during her time since the Battle of City Circle and her sister's death. Do we have any information on the injuries she sustained and her recovery?

FC: Her physician, Dr. Aurelius, has refused to give any information to the public about the well-being of the Mockingjay, only sharing that she has sustained significant injury and trauma and is working on recovery. We have heard rumors that her mental state is precarious, but Dr. Aurelius refused to comment on her mental state when asked, only stating that she will be well enough to carry out Snow's execution. Dr. Aurelius is also the physician treating victor Peeta Mellark, who we now know sustained multiple injuries and torture under the imprisonment of then-President Snow.

CF: I certainly hope our star-crossed lovers have been healing well together - hopefully Dr. Aurelius is letting them have some alone time as well, Fulvia! [LAUGHTER]

FC: [LAUGHTER] Well, love is a powerful medicine, Caesar!

FC and CF: [LAUGHTER]

CF: Peeta will be standing by Katniss's side today to support her as she carries out the execution. Perhaps it will bring the Mockingjay a sense of closure to kill the man who has brought her, her family and her country so much pain and hardship. Katniss killing Snow may actually prove therapeutic for her!

FC: Well, there are certainly many people in this nation who would not mind being in her place right now. Hopefully, Katniss is aware that when she shoots today, she shoots for every person in Panem who was oppressed under Snow's regime, and for the lives of every tribute who came before her. On the terrace stage, she will be joined by her fellow surviving victors, including of course her fiancé Peeta Mellark, Johanna Mason, Annie Cresta, Haymitch Abernathy, Enobaria Golding and Beetee Wright. Now national heroes, our surviving victors are also being considered for roles in our country's new government. In fact, I have insider information that the victors met privately with President Coin earlier today to discuss what we assume to be policy matters.

[BACKGROUND NOISE: APPLAUSE]

CF: Fulvia, I hate to interrupt but it looks like the doors of the balcony are opening... and there she is, our new President, Alma Coin! While she greets her audience on the balcony and City Circle, Fulvia, what can you tell us about our new president from your time in District 13?

FC: Well Caesar, I was a part of many control room meetings and of course, for the sake of national security, can't reveal too much about what went on in there.

CF: Of course.

FC: However, I can tell you that our new president is a powerful, ambitious woman who will be tenacious in tearing down all bonds of Snow's regime. She doesn't let anything get in her way, and she has a strong vision for the new government she and our other new leaders are charged with creating.

[BACKGROUND NOISE: LOUD APPLAUSE, CHEERS]

CF: Fulvia, I see our Girl on Fire, live for the first time in months, now stepping out onto the terrace on the street level. She is wearing her signature Mockingjay suit that was her iconic uniform both in and out of battle. Viewers will remember her wearing this suit in the moving propo after the bombing of District 8, when Katniss made it clear to then-President Snow - 'if we burn, you burn with us!'

FC: Well, speaking of burning, it looks like Katniss has certainly suffered some extensive burn damage from the explosions in City Circle. While her prep team has done a wonderful job today, if you look closely you can see damage where the suit exposes - along her neck, her hands and forearms. Her hair is also significantly shorter in parts.

CF: Perhaps that hairstyle will start a new trend among citizens?

[BACKGROUND NOISE: LOUD APPLAUSE, CHEERS]

FC: Perhaps, Caesar. Joining her now are her other victors and her fiancé - or, husband, if you remember the story of their toasting from before the Quarter Quell - Peeta, who looks very upset. We can only wonder what happened behind closed doors before this.

CF: Indeed.

FC: She must be in a tremendous amount of pain - you can see the hesitation in her walk - and it's a testament to her bravery and force of will that she is still here in front of the entire nation to carry out her long-held wish to execute Snow and fire the last symbolic shot in this terrible war.

[BACKGROUND NOISE: CROWD BOOING, YELLING]

CF: Speaking of Snow, soldiers are now marching him out to the other side of the terrace. It looks like he is still wearing the suit he wore to his trial, and he certainly looks significantly older and thinner now. I'm watching... it looks like the soldiers are securing his hands to a post, although I'm not sure he'd be able to escape even if he tried - he's surrounded on the terrace, and our producers estimate that there are approximately 3,000 people gathered here in City Circle to watch this event live, not to mention those watching from televisions across Panem. The Mockingjay is standing on the other side of the terrace, about thirty feet away.

FC: Snow does not look scared right now. I must say, he actually looks rather amused with the whole thing. Perhaps this is his last attempt to break Katniss before she sends him to his death.

CF: Katniss has pulled the arrow and nocked it back in her bow - that's a customized bow from District 13 which responds only to her, we've been told by Victor and Technology Expert Beetee Wright - and she's taking her time to aim. There's not much distance between them, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of shot, with all of Panem watching and holding their breath. With this shot, Katniss Everdeen is officially ending the Second Great War of Panem. She pulls back, and...

[BACKGROUND NOISE: PANICKED SCREAMING FROM CROWD]

[BACKGROUND NOISE: LOUD GASPS, SCREAMING OFF MICROPHONE]

FC: Hold on... what...

CF: Uh... wait! No, no... What just happened? Hold on, can anyone on the ground confirm?

FC: [curse word redacted] did she... oh no, no, no...

[BACKGROUND NOISE: UNINTELLIGIBLE SHOUTING OFF MICROPHONE]

CF: Oh no, I... Fulvia, our producers and um, people on the ground have confirmed that Katniss Everdeen has ah... shot at... well, the arrow that was supposed to be for Snow has missed, hitting our new President Alma Coin! Oh, my dear... this is... this is terrible.

FC: Caesar, it, um, looks like the arrow Katniss shot flew high and hit President Coin in the chest, knocking her backwards from the balcony and onto the terrace several stories below. Oh my goodness. I can see medics are on the scene around President Coin, but I don't see how she could have survived that, Caesar.

CF: There's uh, there's commotion on the terrace right now. Several dozen soldiers are now on the platform, and it looks like they are securing Snow... I think they are surrounding him and there looks to be a rush of people from inside the mansion trying to break through and get to him. And hold on... there are even more guards on the other side pulling Katniss Everdeen away even though it looks like she is trying to fight them off. They've... hold on... they just had to pull Peeta Mellark away from her. No doubt he rushed to her to protect her, but the guards are attempting to secure her and are taking her inside. Katniss is now screaming something as they take her in... um... wait...I can't be sure over the noise, is she screaming 'Gale'?

FC: She could be, Caesar - her cousin was her fellow soldier in Star Squad 451. Perhaps, um, she is trying to tell him to shoot Snow, since she missed?

CF: There's no telling at this point. It's all speculation and there is chaos at City Circle right now. Fulvia, can I believe what I think I saw? Did Katniss Everdeen miss her shot by accident or on purpose? One would certainly hope it was an accident but... oh dear. This is just terrible. The guards have finally removed Katniss from the terrace and taken her behind closed doors, but she certainly put up a fight. Her screaming and resistance almost looks like she was trying to escape.

FC: Caesar, now, um now hold on... are you suggesting that the Mockingjay shot Coin instead of Snow on purpose?

CF: Well I'm... I'm not suggesting anything at this moment. So much is unclear right now - the crowd below is still in a panic, and soldiers have been called out to prevent a riot from breaking out.

FC: This is indeed just...it's such a terrible turn of events for our country, and for our beloved Mockingj-

CF: Fulvia, I'm … I'm sorry to have to cut you off but uh, we've been told by our new government officials that our broadcast must cease immediately for national security. Panem, um, please stay calm and we will share more information when we have it and are authorized to broadcast. Goodnight

[END OF TRANSCRIPT, time: 3:06 pm Capitol time]


	2. Chapter 1

_I own nothing of the Hunger Games, I don't even own my car. Huge thanks and sloppy kisses to wollaston, my beautiful beta._

I had seen a lot of terrible things in my years as a mentor for District Twelve. I'd seen poor kids dressed up like pathetic clowns in ridiculous costumes and delivered to the Capitol like lambs to the slaughter. Seen grown-ass men and women - some of them parents to their own set of children - cheer and place bets on kids murdering kids, while stuffing their faces on enough to feed my entire District for a month. But the sight of Katniss Everdeen - that damn girl, hero to just about every man, woman and rugrat in Panem and pain in the ass to everyone who really knew her - killing the wrong president was... well, it's a sight I never want to relive even in nightmares without the help of a drink. Several, actually.

After it happened, all hell broke loose. I was watching everything from the sidelines of the terrace with all of the other Victors. Enobaria and Beetee gasped and covered their mouths, I think. Annie screamed and covered her ears. Johanna laughed until she was gasping for air. I just kept watching the girl - because that's mostly what mentors do, we just watch helplessly - until I watched her try to take her nightlock pill but get stopped by the boy instead. Watched her fight against the guards and scream for the Hawthorne kid. Then I watched the massive crowd start to push towards her, and I ran forward before they could take her away forever.

I tried to follow the guards and soldiers as they carted her away, still all piss and vinegar as she screamed and thrashed against them. It wasn't easy to keep her in sight with dozens of guards between us. Once the blindfold and handcuffs were wrangled on her, the doors to the mansion were closed right in my face and I wasn't allowed to follow.

"Where are they taking her?" I yelled at the first gray-uniformed figure he saw. I could still hear Katniss's screams behind the doors, slowly fading as they took her farther and farther away from the light of day.

"Miss Everdeen is being taken into custody," the guard said.

"Where's custody?" I asked.

"I can't tell you that," the guard replied.

Of course. Little shit, I thought while I did my best to resist punching this guy. "Can't because you don't know, or can't because she's about to be killed?"

The guard tried to stand firm, but his eyes grew all big and scared at the thought. "I... Sir, I don't have information to give you."

This guard - this kid, really, who was doing his best to act like a big boy grown-up - didn't know anything. Just what his orders were: keep people out of the mansion. To my right, guards had surrounded Snow who seemed to be laughing and coughing himself to death. I turned away to block out the horrible sound of an old man dying and tried to figure something out. But it was hard when the damn sun was that bright, and there was this pain behind my eyes that was blooming into a full-fledged headache. Shit, I thought. If I couldn't get into the mansion, I couldn't even get to my room. I needed my booze. I needed to think. I needed Snow to hurry up and die so I didn't have to hear him anymore.

Then an idea came to me and stopped me in my tracks - hell, it might as well have slapped me in the face. In my room was my communicuff - the one I'd stopped wearing ages ago, as soon as the war was declared "over". There were still members of the government who did though, including the man who could probably help the most. I needed to find Plutarch.

Guards didn't wear communicuffs. Coin had reserved those for the ones "most important to the structure of our government and operation", and she sure didn't count guards among them. I looked at the medics in the terrace, trying to bring Coin back to life even though we all knew it was a lost cause. Well, she sure won't be giving out any more communicuffs now.

Damn, she's really dead, I realized.

When Coin dragged us all in that room and blindsided us by asking for a vote on another Hunger Games for Capitol kids, I almost had to laugh. She was so transparent, and these kids had no idea. I knew she wanted more than a pound of flesh from the Capitol since their defeat - she wanted every last person associated with them to suffer, especially after those bombs dropped by a Capitol hovercraft killed so many rebels outside the President's mansion. When everyone in her new government didn't jump at the idea of detaining every Capitol citizen and turning them into a slave or killing them as an example, she had to come up with another plan that still made her looked good. I had to hand it to her - it was a hell of an idea.

I was surprised she put it up to a vote, though. Too many variables for a perfectionist like Coin who wanted everything guaranteed to go her way. Obviously, Peeta and Annie were gonna be against it. Enobaria stopped giving a shit months ago, and Johanna had too much anger against the Capitol to let it go. Couldn't say I blamed her, though. Beetee was a bit of a wild card - he found satisfaction in making the weaponry for the war, so Coin probably thought he'd be intrigued to sit on the other side of the Control Room for this. He hadn't been the same since the war ended, though. His weapons ended the lives of too many people on both sides, and I think it haunted him.

I really had no idea which way Katniss would vote, at first. She just looked so tired in that room, all dolled up in that costume but still burnt and broken underneath. Something was going on in her head, and I could tell she was thinking beyond what Coin said. Everything was at stake. Coin was just as power-hungry as Snow, she just had a different way of going about it. The problem was that only a few people seemed to know it. Everyone else was so happy that the bad guys lost the war, they didn't see the bad was on their side, too.

When she voted yes - "for Prim", she said - I knew she had something up her sleeve. That sweet little sister of hers died in a battle she was never supposed to be in. "Clerical error", my ass. Coin didn't care how young Prim was, she sent her in with the medics just the same. Everyone was disposable to her as long as it meant winning the war.

Sweetheart may not have the best capabilities when it comes to making plans, but her instincts are good. Excellent, even. I'd put my money on her instincts over this new government any day of the week. So my vote was with the Mockingjay.

Still, I gotta say she surprised me. And now she would probably die for it.

I finally found the Hawthorne boy in the crowd; or maybe he found me, I'm not sure. He wanted to know what was happening to Katniss, and I didn't have answers. I grabbed his communicuff and asked him to get it to transmit a signal instead of receive it - Beetee had shown us how to do that weeks ago, which didn't make Coin too happy. I guess if the message didn't come from her, she didn't think it was worth sending. But sometimes it was the only way to get shit done.

Gale sent a message to Plutarch's communicuff for me, asking him to meet me right away. Not too long after, Plutarch replied - "Training Center gym, five minutes."

Of course Gale wanted to come too, but I wouldn't let him. I needed him on the ground, trying to find out where Katniss was and how we could see her. I told him I'd send him a message with Plutarch's communicuff - because who knew when I'd ever get back in the mansion to get my own - and we'd meet as soon as possible.

It took all five minutes and more just to get through the crowd across City Circle. I don't know how much time had passed since Coin was shot - ten minutes? An hour? More? Coin's body had been taken away, and so had Snow's. The precious Mockingjay had been hidden away somewhere. Everyone was just standing around confused, like they didn't know what to do or where to go. Maybe they didn't have a home to go to anymore. Can't think about that now. I forced myself past them.

It had been twenty-five years since I'd actually been in the inside of the Training Center gym, but it looked the same as it did when I was a tribute. It was empty except for some spare mats set on the floor, and I recalled the reports that some of Snow's higher-ups had been using the Training Center as a hideout towards the end of the war. If I looked closely, I could still see a stain on the floor that must have been from when Peeta painted Rue's death portrait. The heavy glass doors opened behind me, and Plutarch called my name.

"Where did they take her? You can't let them kill her!" I yelled at him.

Plutarch sighed. "She's in custody - upstairs actually, in her old room on the twelfth floor. No one's going to kill her, at least not now. Look, I don't know exactly what's going to happen with her, but I have already issued orders to hold her in protective custody until a new president is elected and decides what to do with her."

I let out a breath I didn't even know I'd been holding. Plutarch holds a lot of power here - if he issued the orders to just hold her in protective custody, I knew she would stay there. "Who's the new president gonna be? You?" I ask.

Plutarch's face transformed into a grimace, as if he had just smelled something rancid. "I certainly hope not. We'll hold an emergency election or something, but I definitely wouldn't vote for me. I don't think I have the stomach for politics anymore."

He looked like he was going to be sick, and I knew the feeling. "Neither do I."

"The problem is what is going to happen when a new president comes in. The most practical solution, which I'll recommend to the new president, would be for Katniss to have a trial, just like all the other criminals of war had," he explained.

I wanted to yell at him that she wasn't a criminal of war, but I couldn't. He was right. "She's the most famous person in the entire country, and she just killed the most powerful person in the country. Does she even have a chance of getting a fair trial?'

"We can do a tribunal and hopefully the judges won't be Coin loyalists. It'll be televised, of course - everyone in Panem will be glued to the screen for the trial of the century. The People of Panem vs. The Mockingjay!" he says, spreading his hands in front of him as if lining the headline up on a marquee. The son of a bitch actually sounds excited. Another circus for the crowds.

"I said a fair trial, not a circus! After all she's done for this country and our damn war effort, she deserves a fair shot!" I yelled.

Plutarch put his hands up in defense. "I'll do what I can, Haymitch. Maybe I can get on the tribunal, or help persuade the right people on. Maybe I can present her defense - perhaps put Peeta on the stand about his dearly beloved - "

"You knock that shit off right now, Plutarch," I said, balling my hands into fists.

"It's all just a big show, Haymitch. You know that. We all have a part to play, and if you want to save her life, you'll have to be a part of it too. So will he. So will everyone that we can get to speak up for her," he said quietly. And damnit if he wasn't right. I'd have to accept the situation.

"Okay. She's upstairs in custody now. Can you make sure she's taken care of? Food, medicine, all that?" I asked.

He smiled and nodded. "She won't be getting custom couture and lamb stew, but she'll get what she needs. You won't be allowed to visit her anytime soon, but I'll make sure you're kept informed of her status. Where's your communicuff?"

"In my room, in the mansion," I grumbled. Right next to a half empty bottle of some damn fine liquor I had swiped from Snow's collection. "The place is still in lockdown, so I can't get it."

Plutarch nodded. "I'll make sure you're allowed back in the mansion shortly. Shouldn't be a problem, since she's not being held there. Wear your cuff as soon as you get your hands on it and we'll be in contact."

I turned to leave but he stopped me. "I meant what I said before, Haymitch. I'll do what I can. After everything that's happened, I owe her," he said, not quite meeting my eyes.

Owing someone is not a concept I ever thought a Capitol citizen would be able to grasp. Hell, sometimes it's hard enough for anyone outside of the Seam. Then I remembered that the Seam wasn't there anymore. It was blown to dust, like the rest of District Twelve. Like most of this country has been. Shit, I need a drink.

"You owe her for all those propos, huh?" I joked.

His mask of self-confidence fell for just a split-second, but I still saw it. "Something like that," he said quietly. I could tell there was more to it than he was letting on, but I decided to drop it for now. Another time, maybe he'd tell me.

Plutarch raised his wrist and sent a message on his communicuff to open the mansion to Level 3 personnel and up, which included me, Gale, the other Victors. He sent a message to Gale that I was heading back there, and Gale replied that I should head to the medical center right away, and he would catch up with me later. Great, I thought. Like I didn't have enough shit to deal with.

The medical center was only two blocks away from City Circle but managed to remain relatively unscathed from the final battle. On the outside, at least. On the inside, there were still more patients than rooms or doctors, and I couldn't help but think that the rebel medics who died two blocks away would have made a real difference here. The little sister would have.

Mrs. Everdeen seemed to be everywhere in that medical center while rushing between patients, and for a moment I wondered if she'd been too busy to see what her daughter had done. But when she looked up and caught my eyes, I knew she had seen everything.

She took off her gloves and dumped them in the trash as she rushed over. "Is she still alive?"

I nodded. "She's being held in protective custody until a new president is elected, then it looks like she'll probably be tried as a war criminal. I'll help her, and so will Plutarch and Gale. And anyone else we can get."

"I'll help, of course," she said. "I just don't know how. She hasn't needed my help in years." Her eyes fell to the floor in shame.

I remembered one day in Victor's Village - a sunny day not long after the Everdeens had moved into their fancy new Capitol-gifted house. Prim caught me on my front porch waking up from a bender and came over to chat. I tried to yell at her to leave me alone, but I couldn't bring myself to do it to the girl. That'd be like stomping on a kitten, or something. So I just let her talk while I stayed silent, and she told me all about their lives now that they wanted for nothing. She was so thrilled at the silliest of things - like having a bigger yard for their goat to graze in. I didn't even know they had a goat. That would have explained that weird noise from their backyard, though.

Prim also told me their mom was able to expand her healer business, which was good. Lots of people needed healing (at least, they did back when there still was a District Twelve - just bones and dust now, Haymitch), and their mom was one of the best I'd ever seen. I asked Prim who was taking care of her while their mom was off healing, and she just smiled a little less and said, "Katniss is. She has been for years. Mom... well, she was sick for a while after Papa... well, and Katniss took over. Mom's better now, though," she said at the end, trying to sound hopeful.

Sweetheart had to grow up too damn fast. But so did Peeta. So did I. We all did, even before our names were pulled from the Reaping Bowl.

I told Mrs. Everdeen that I would be in touch as soon as I know more about Katniss and what was going to happen. She just nodded with a small grateful smile that fell just short of reaching her eyes, then asked "Would you like to see him?"

"Who?" I asked.

"Peeta," she said.

Shit. I left him. Again.

Mrs. Everdeen explained, "After... well, after what happened, guards brought him back here to the psychiatric ward. He was yelling a lot and fighting them - I haven't spoken to the doctors yet, but he might have had a meltdown in City Circle, it seems? Or he could just still be unstable after everything. Annie Cresta was brought back as well, but she wasn't fighting it. Just had her eyes closed and her hands over her ears."

Of all the Victors in 75 years of Hunger Games, there were only seven of us left. One was in custody for assassinating the president and probably faced the death penalty. Two were locked up in the psychiatric ward, probably drugged out of their minds. One wanted to go back to the mansion right away and get lost in the bottom of a bottle or two. The rest... well, they were still pretty fucked up in their own way.

"Where's the ward?" I asked Mrs. Everdeen.

"Seventh floor. Dr. Aurelius is there. I'm sure he can help Katniss, too."

She was right. Maybe the doc could convince everyone that Sweetheart was too crazy to know what she was doing. Maybe he could convince everyone that she thought she was shooting Snow, or something. Maybe he could convince them to spare her life.

The medical center elevator wasn't as fancy as the one in the Training Center, but it was close. Plush carpet, gold buttons for each floor and a digital screen telling you what was on each floor. It figured the Capitol would spend so much money on something this frivolous while the Districts starved.

But that day, I couldn't quite feel happy that we'd won the war. It was days like these where the cost seemed too high.

The seventh floor used to hold the units for nose jobs and boob implants as well as the mental ward. Due to the war and the influx of traumatized patients and refugees, it was now exclusively devoted to psychiatric care. Just like the rest of the medical center, it was packed with too many patients. It was quieter on this floor than the others though. Most of the people just looked shell shocked and kept to themselves. I knew the feeling.

I ran into Dr. Aurelius before I got to the intake desk. He nodded in greeting and said, "She's not here."

"I know - she's in the Training Center in custody. They're sure not letting me see her, but maybe you can since you're her doc. Plutarch said he'll make sure she gets her meals and medicine," I said. "We have to wait for a new president to get elected, but then she'll hopefully get a fair trial by tribunal. I could use your help - they're gonna wanna know about her mental state."

"She never opened up to me, but I have a feeling that's something she doesn't do easily," he said, and I had to smile begrudgingly in agreement. "I can tell you that even before what happened today, she was suffering from shock. Not only has she been through a staggering amount of physical trauma - in the bombing and the war and two Hunger Games - but she's suffered emotional trauma for a long time as well that culminated in the death of her sister. Any of these things alone would be enough to send her into a state of physical and mental shock. Combined, they've created a catastrophic breakdown in her consciousness."

"That's just the kind of thing I need you to say to the tribunal," I said. "I don't know who is gonna be on that panel of judges, but if it's a bunch of Capitol people like Plutarch, they may not grasp how much she's suffered. Not just from the war, but from the Rebellion and the Games and the pressures of being a Victor. Hell, even just scrambling to get by in District 12 after her daddy died and her mama checked out would fuck a kid up."

Aurelius raised his eyebrows, as if he hadn't considered this. "If you think about it, it's really a miracle she's held it together as long as she had," he said.

"You could say that about any of us, really," I said bitterly. Although I'm not sure my way of life would really be considered holding it together. "I heard Peeta and Annie are here?" I asked.

"They are," he confirmed. "Annie was given a sedative and is resting in her room. Peeta was given a sedative too, but he's still awake. He's in room 714, if you'd like to see him."

Room 714 was at the very end of a dim hallway. It was as if they put him there specifically to keep him away from everyone else. Probably for the best, really. There was a shatterproof window in the door and I could see him sitting up in his bed, soft cloth restraints on his ankles and wrists. He was playing with a piece of rope, and I got a little choked up when I realized Finnick must have given it to him to help him. I'd known Finnick for ten years, and in his first year as a Victor and a mentor, he started carrying a length of it in his pocket wherever he went, making knots over and over to help him cope. That was when Snow started selling him out. That was when the light really started to go out of Finnick's eyes. Until he was killed in that sewer -

STOP IT.

I rubbed my hands over my face, forcing myself into the present moment before knocking on the door. Peeta looked up from the bed, and nodded when he saw my face through the window. I entered his room and took in the surroundings. It was definitely a lot nicer than the plain, sterile room in Thirteen. Thick carpet on the floors, a picture window facing west, lots of soft blankets on the bed. Even the cloth restraints looked like they were some kind of velvet. But he still didn't look comfortable. To be honest, I don't remember the last time I saw him look comfortable, even in District Twelve with the stress of acting for the cameras and loving a girl who had to pretend to love him back.

I know I had seen him just that morning, but I was still struck by how thin and tired he looked. The burnt flesh looked painful, but he didn't seem to mind. He just kept making those knots with his charred, stiff fingers.

I cleared my throat, trying to think of what to say. "Hey there, boy," I said awkwardly. "Heard you might be staying here for a bit."

He shrugged, his eyes on the rope. "Doesn't matter. It's not like I can sleep in the mansion, either."

I paused, considering my words carefully. "How are you... ah... holding up? After today?"

He forgets the rope and looks right up at me suddenly with anger, those blue eyes trying to burn a hole in me. "Why did you vote yes? Why did she? Did you know she was going to do this? Was this another one of those plans you two had but didn't tell me about for my own 'protection'?"

I cleared my throat again, measuring my response carefully. "I didn't vote yes, not technically. I don't want anymore bloodshed, no matter who it is. My vote was with the Mockingjay. I knew she didn't trust Coin at all, and her instincts were almost always right. I don't - I mean, I didn't trust Coin either. I figured that if Katniss voted yes, she had a damn good reason for trying to make Coin trust her. But I didn't know she was gonna kill her - not today, at least. I don't even think Katniss knew what she was gonna do until she did it. Not sure if you remember, but she's sort of a 'rash decision' kind of kid."

"I remember," he said quietly, looking back down to his knots.

I looked at him, this beautiful broken kid whose skin was forever marked by war and flames and suffering, and thought about all the ways I'd failed him. "Can I get you anything?" I asked. It was a start.

He started to shake his head, then looked up as an idea seemed to form. "Perhaps a game of chess?" he asked with a slight smile. I smiled back. During my visits with him in Thirteen, we needed a way to fill his time because things as "frivolous" as art supplies and frosting were in short demand. They eventually allowed us to use an old chess board someone had made from a small sheet of scrap wood that was too warped to be considered usable, and some broken nuts and bolts for pieces. We started playing a game during every visit as soon as they were convinced he wouldn't use any of the pieces as a weapon. He remembered how we would sometimes play the game back home, and even remembered the night we played it at the Everdeens', waiting for Katniss to come back and fool the Peacekeepers. Peeta had asked if the Goat Man made it to Thirteen. He hadn't.

I felt a surge of determination bubble up in my gut and stood up straight. I could do this for him. For them. I could save Katniss from death once again, and save the boy by being there for him as he healed. I could help them both stay alive, in my own way.

"You got it, kid."

_Chapters will be updated every Monday. Find me on tumblr (fnurfnur) if you have questions or want to talk about this story!_


	3. Chapter 2

_I own nothing/hold no rights to The Hunger Games or the characters. Huge sloppy kisses and thanks to my beta wollaston. Check her out on tumblr (alonglineofbread)_

The sun had just finished setting behind the candy colored buildings of the Capitol skyline when I found myself in the same room, same chair as I had been in a few hours earlier. Everything else was different, though. Funny the difference a few hours makes.

Coin wasn't leading the meeting - Plutarch was, because Coin was dead. Katniss wasn't there because she was locked up for killing Coin. Peeta and Annie weren't there, they were locked up in a mental ward. Now it was just me, Enobaria, Johanna, and Beetee. Joining us were Plutarch, Fulvia, Lieutenant Gale representing 12 (fancy new promotion after the battle of City Circle, courtesy of Coin) Commander Paylor from District 8, Lieutenant Julia from District 5, Lieutenant Livilla from District 13, and that was it. Every other lieutenant from the other districts was dead or presumed so.

Plutarch seated himself at the head of the table and smiled broadly to everyone, as if we were just gonna talk about planning a damn birthday party. "Thank you all for joining us at such short notice. We're here to discuss, well, basically what happens next. As the remaining top personnel and clearance holders from Coin's regime, it is now up to us to move forward for the sake of Coin's original goal: building democracy in Panem."

Livilla nodded her head vigorously, but everyone else had muted reactions. Fulvia was taking notes, Gale was rubbing a spot between his eyebrows, Paylor listened attentively but made no indication about her feelings. I was pretty sure Enobaria and Johanna were falling asleep. Me, I was doing okay. My flask was full again, so this meeting would be just fine for me.

"Previously, there was no election to appoint Coin as President. She seemed the natural choice as the leader of the rebellion and no one objected when she appointed herself. But since there was no official line of succession determined, we need to figure out the best way to appoint a new leader as soon as possible, and I believe an election would be the most suitable option," Plutarch stressed.

Lieutenant Julia spoke up. "I've only seen elections done on very small scales, like electing who would be supervisor of a specific power plant. How would we do it across the entire country? It would take far too long. We need a leader now."

"We don't even know how many people are left in the country, or in each district. How are we supposed to get the vote of everyone when we don't even know who everyone is?" Gale asked.

Beetee cleared his throat. "Actually, based on the preliminary data models we've used, we believe that there are just over 80,000 men, women and children left in Panem. Each district has at least 2,000 people currently residing there. Right now, the majority of the population is currently located in the Capitol, followed by Districts 11 and 13. I can show everyone the estimated numbers for each district later on, once we get today's update from the field."

"Seated in this room, we have representatives from several of the districts. Fulvia and I represent the Capitol, Enobaria represents Two. Beetee is from Three, Julia is from Five, Johanna is from Seven, Paylor is from Eight, Haymitch and Gale are from Twelve, and Livilla is from Thirteen," Plutarch said. "We still need representatives for One, Four, Six, Nine, Ten."

"Annie is from Four," Enobaria said.

"Annie is insane, you idiot," Johanna barked back.

Plutarch put up his hands to stop any argument from forming. "Annie is in no shape to handle official business right now. Her health and recovery is more important, and the same thing applies to Peeta."

Lieutenant Livilla sat up straighter in her chair and chimed in. "Why wouldn't we do the simpler option of appointing someone who was in Coin's administration, instead of wasting time and resources we don't have to hold a nationwide election? If Coin was deemed the best choice for President without an election, why wouldn't someone in her administration be able to represent her and her plan for the new Panem?"

I took a long pull of my flask to keep from making a face.

Commander Paylor finally spoke. "Our goal has always been to create a republic among the people, allowing the people to elect their own representatives to be their voice in a centralized government. If we in the government make the decisions for them without getting their opinion or at least their approval, we've already failed in our goal."

Livilla turned towards Paylor. "We don't have time for that right now, though. Our country is fractured and the only thing holding it together was the promise of freedom Coin and the rest of us fought for. Now that Coin's been assassinated by the Mockingjay psycho -"

She didn't get to finish her sentence before Gale and I stood up quickly (okay, maybe Hawthorne was able to get to his feet just a bit faster than I was) to react to her insult. "Leave her out of this," Gale said quietly, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes.

"Katniss Everdeen is gonna see her day in court and be judged then. Until then, she has nothing to do with this conversation. You'd be smart to shut up about her in a room full of people who have fought with her," I added.

Plutarch stood and raised his arms out to us, as if preparing to keep both sides apart. "Everyone take a seat and calm down. I've done some research with Fulvia and Beetee about our available resources and population distribution, and I think we've worked something out," Plutarch said, taking a seat once Gale and I had done so. "We send at least one representative for every 2,000 people to each District, and keep another representative for each District in the Capitol for those who have moved here. Each representative is responsible for collecting the votes of their District for President. Once our President has been elected and some things are in place in our government, such as presidential advisors and an ongoing list of pressing matters in our country, another election can be held in each District to elect their own representatives."

"Some of the districts are huge. How are we supposed to go find remaining citizens and get votes? Door-to-door?" Julia asked. It was a good question.

Plutarch smiled and his eyes lit up in excitement. "Actually, I just had the idea for this a few minutes ago. We could do it like a Reaping! Send a mandatory message out to the districts telling all citizens to meet in their respective squares on a certain day and time, get a blood sample to ensure their identity, then ask them to vote! Wouldn't that be perfect? We could even send camera crews, and put it on the evening programming: 'The Birth of a New Panem'!"

Nobody spoke a word. Fulvia wrote down his idea, and smiled while scribbling. The rest of us looked at him - some with confusion, some with disgust. I think Johanna said it best for all of us, though.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you seriously suggesting that the way to get everyone to participate in our new government is to use the same procedure where the Capitol picked which kids to murder? Do you really think anyone is going to want to show up? And if it's mandatory, you might as well pick kids to die, because that's what they're going to assume you're gonna do. Fucking hell, Heavensbee. It's like you want the country to go back to war," she spit at him.

I understood Plutarch and his misconceptions more than most of these folks, so I figured I'd step in before Johanna snapped his neck. "Plutarch, to you uppity swells in the Capitol, the Reapings were something fun to watch. In the Districts, they were hell. Jo's right. You can't do it like a Reaping. Not if you want anyone in Panem to buy into this new government."

Plutarch sighed in frustration. "I'm open to other suggestions, then."

Beetee adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. "If we send one representative per 2,000 people, we have enough portable computer tablets to send on to each representative. Then, the representative can collect everyone's vote using the technology. We don't even need the names of those voting, it can be completely anonymous. All anyone has to do is select from a list of candidates. We can send propos in the districts letting everyone know that the representatives will be coming to collect votes, and if the citizen so chooses to vote, they can go to the representative at the Justice Hall."

"Or wherever else they can meet that wasn't blown to shit," Livilla added.

Fulvia raised her pen, in question. "Why wouldn't we make this mandatory? What if the citizens don't show up?"

"We're giving citizens the right to vote, which means it's also their right to choose not to. Besides, some citizens may be too injured or otherwise busy to vote. If it comes between someone trying to find the remains of their family or vote, we can guess which one they'll do," Paylor said. "And that's their decision. The old government gave citizens no choices, no free will. We can't go back to that. Our citizens should be allowed to exercise their choices and become as involved in their government as they want to be."

Damn, I thought. I liked her.

"Beetee, you said there would be a list of candidates. Who would be on the list?" Livilla asked.

"Well, that's a good question," he said. "I'd say anyone in this room would certainly be a possibility. And we can leave the possibility for anyone to vote for their own candidate as well - all they would have to do is write in the person's name instead of selecting one from the list. However, I would personally like to excuse myself from being on the list."

"Me too," I said.

"And I," Plutarch said.

"Pass," Enobaria said.

"Hell, put my name on twice," Johanna said. "I'll give this country a good kick in the ass."

So that's how it began. Beetee began developing the program for the representative's computer tablet gadget things, the lieutenants began recruiting other representatives from all districts as it was decided that anyone on the ballot should not be a district representative to avoid a conflict of interest, and the rest of us began working on propos to educate everyone about the election. I only volunteered for that duty because I knew Plutarch would let me slip out to take care of Katniss and Peeta. One was easier than the other.

Katniss was indeed in her old room in the Training Center, only it had been stripped clean except for the mattress. She had no visitors, not even a doctor to look at her torn and bloodied skin. She was being monitored by cameras at all times, and it played on a constant feed in the mansion since that was still the government headquarters. She eventually slipped to the bathroom to shower, and a guard snuck in to take her Mockingjay outfit out and leave a paper gown for modesty, as well as food, water and a cup of pills and ointments. They weren't going to give her the privilege of any human contact, just as Coin had done with the Capitol prisoners. Normally, that girl was someone who would be just fine avoiding everyone else. In retrospect, I think it was how they hurt her the most. She needed a friend up there.

I could see her determination to end her life in her eyes - they way they surveyed everything. Her eyes lingered on certain things - the windows, the bedsheets, all instruments of suicide. She figured out pretty quick that they wouldn't let her do that - the guards would stop her before she could do any real damage to herself. I was thankful that she wouldn't be able to hurt herself, even though I was too familiar with the feeling of wanting it all to end.

On the second day, Katniss just tried to give up. She refused food or drink, and pushed the medicine away. Her skin was scabbed, cracked and tight, but she even refused any salve. The pain must have been incredible, especially without the morphling. I think she underestimated her dependency on morphling, though. By the time the rest of us met again in the mansion two days later, the girl was in a cold sweat and crying.

The meeting was just an update, but it sure was a welcome relief from watching Sweetheart wither away. Beetee had prepared the computers and technical crap for counting the votes - he started to explain how it worked, but I made myself busy with my flask. Paylor, Julia, Livilla, and Gale presented their lists of military personnel assigned to be representatives for the election. Plutarch proudly showed us the propos his team had made that would begin airing that evening. He had tried some with Enobaria and Johanna together, but it didn't work out. They fought like two wet cats in a bag and had to be separated by a dozen guards. After that, Plutarch excused them from having to attend these meetings. He also excused me from having to work in the election, saying I was in charge of keeping track of Katniss, Peeta and Annie. Lieutenant Livilla remarked dryly, "It's not like they're going anywhere."

I was never good at keeping track of time, so I don't know how many days passed before the country voted Paylor as their new president. I knew she'd do a good job - hell, I voted for her. Here's what I do know - during that time, Katniss couldn't handle going cold turkey on the morphling, so she started taking that again. She still refused food, and only took enough water needed to swallow the painkiller. That damn girl was still trying to kill herself, but at least she picked a slow way to do it. That way, I still had time to try to save her life.

I also visited Peeta every day. After the second day in the ward, they removed the restraints and allowed him to roam freely around the entire floor. Annie got the same privilege, but refused to use it. She mostly slept or sat in a chair, looking out the window. The only time she moved was to use the bathroom, mostly to upchuck the little bit of food she ate. She at least had the presence of mind to smile when I came in, and say hello. But that was the extent of the conversation.

Aurelius had provided a fancy chess set made of mahogany and white marble. It was a big step up from rusted bolts and old wood in Thirteen, but it didn't improve Peeta's opening strategies or my habit of leaving my queen vulnerable on the sides. We played every day - sometimes a few of games in a row and sometimes just one, depending on how the boy felt that day.

On the day Paylor was elected, Aurelius was busy running tests on Peeta during my normal visiting time, so I decided to meet with Plutarch so we could discuss making the case for Katniss to get a trial. I was wearing my communicuff again - even though it felt like a shackle sometimes, just like it did when Coin made me wear it - and arranged for us to meet again in the Training Center gym.

Plutarch was thrilled about Paylor's election. He said she was our best hope of getting a fair trial for Katniss. Actually, I think he was more thankful that he didn't get elected - pulling in 22% of the vote even though he wasn't on the ballot had scared the shit out of him.

"I'm meeting with Paylor in an hour, and I'd like for you to join me," Plutarch said. "We can make the case for Katniss to receive a trial by tribunal, saying it's the best option for the country to resolve the matter... for Panem to heal and move forward towards a better future."

"Shit, you better do the talking on this one. You've already got me sold, and I'm the one who asked you to do it," I said. Plutarch was a natural at spinning a story exactly the way he wanted it. His way with words was only rivaled by Peeta when the boy was at his best. I wondered if he would ever get that talent back.

Before I knew it, Plutarch and I were standing in front of Paylor - President Paylor now, as I had to remind myself when she shook our hands at the beginning of the meeting. "I suppose you're here to discuss Katniss Everdeen," she said.

She didn't beat around the bush. I knew I liked her.

"We are, Madame President," Plutarch said. She waved her hand dismissively.

"I'm not a madame - just President Paylor is more than enough. It will take me awhile to get used to that," she said.

"Certainly, President Paylor," Plutarch corrected himself. "We'd like to make the case for Ms. Everdeen to receive her right to a fair trial. Snow and the war criminals captured in his regime were allowed their day in court, and Ms. Everdeen should receive the same."

"Of course. She's a citizen of Panem and has rights, just as all citizens will have now. Honestly, I thought you were going to ask me to give her a pardon," she said.

"If we thought you'd give it, we would have," I said.

A small smile broke out on her face. "I'm glad you used better judgment. I'm thankful for the overwhelming effort Ms. Everdeen had in the war, both in her service and the sacrifices she had to make. But that does not excuse the fact that she is responsible for the death of our previous president. As we still have to work out changes in our judiciary system - really, changes in our entire government - we'll do a trial with the same procedures we used for Snow and his administration."

"Will you be the judge, President Paylor?" Plutarch asked hopefully.

She shook her head. "There's too much of a conflict of interest for me to be her sole judge. After all, my promotion is a result of Katniss's crime. However, the other trials were done by tribunal and this one will be the same. As I was on the tribunal for most of the other trials, I will be a member of this one for procedural purposes. But the panel of judges must be balanced. Now, as it seems Ms. Everdeen is in no state to handle her own defense, who will be acting as her defense representative?" she asked.

That was something we hadn't planned. "Plutarch should do it," I said. "He'd do a much better job."

"That may be your opinion, but I'm afraid we have another conflict of interest. You see, I plan to offer Mr. Heavensbee an appointment as my Secretary of Communications. It wouldn't seem right for one of my advisors to present a case to me, whether I am the sole judge or on a panel. The prosecutor would rightly protest," she said.

"President Paylor, may we have a day to determine a defense representative? Perhaps during this time, the tribunal members can be picked and a prosecution representative can be assigned?" Plutarch asked.

Paylor nodded. "That's an excellent idea. Let's meet tomorrow at noon. I'll have the prosecution representative join us, and we'll have the tribunal members decided. Then, we can determine how and when this trial should be held."

Walking out of her office, I knew Plutarch was gonna make me do it. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to do anything I could to help the girl. But I didn't know how much help I'd be standing in front of a bunch of officials, trying to convince them to save her life. At least, not without a steady stream of booze. Like Plutarch, my talent was behind the scenes, not basking in the spotlight.

I told Plutarch I'd meet him later - I needed to get my head right first. Surprisingly (mostly to me), that led me to Peeta's room in the ward. He was back from Aurelius's tests, and luckily none of them had sent him into a fit or drugged him. In fact, he was alert enough to sketch, but closed his sketchbook as soon as he saw me come in.

"Whatcha drawing there, kid?" I asked.

"It's something in progress. I'll show you when it's done," he said, putting his sketchbook in the nightstand drawer beside his bed. "Game?" he asked. I nodded.

Peeta pulled the chess board out from under the bed, and set it up between us. We had an understanding between us that he would always play white, and I would always play black. Seemed fitting, even when he was still overcome by anger and hatred from his hijacking. I never felt pure enough to play the white pieces.

Three moves in, he spoke. "How's Katniss?"

I shrugged, trying to figure out exactly how much I should tell him. Should I tell him that she's trying to kill herself through starvation and morphling? Should I lie and say she's doing okay?

"She started singing yesterday. Last I looked, she was still doing it. Some of the songs I know, but some are ones I've never heard of. Maybe her daddy taught them to her," I said.

Peeta furrowed his brow, deep in thought. "And just like that, I knew I was a goner," he whispered.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise at what he had said, as if his mouth said it before his brain could register the memory. His eyes showed confusion, then concentration for several minutes as he tried to make sense of the images in his mind. I tried to give him space, looking for my next move on the board but peeking up every few seconds to make sure the hijacking wasn't taking over.

"I heard Katniss sing when we were five, didn't I? My dad told me about her father and how when he sang, all the birds stopped to listen. Then in class, Katniss sang and I... well, I fell for her," he said, looking at his scarred hands. Then he looked right at me and asked, "Real or not real?"

Gale had told me about this game the Star Squad used to keep Peeta grounded in reality and help him sort out the real memories from the fake hijacked ones. I tried to help him with it, but sometimes I didn't know the answer. "Real, as far as I know. At least, that's what you told her in that cave during your first time in the arena. She seemed to believe it, and I didn't think you were lying."

Peeta looked back at the board, either contemplating his next move or the memory. Ten moves later, he had captured my rook and three pawns while I had two of his pawns, a bishop, and a knight.

There was a question that had been pushing at the forefront of my brain for weeks, but I was afraid to ask it. Part of me was afraid I'd set off the hijacking. Another part of me was afraid he'd tell me the truth, and it would be what I was too scared to hear. But now I was overwhelmed with the feeling that I had to know.

"When Coin sent you into battle with the Star Squad," I asked hesitantly, "did she tell you to kill Katniss?"

He looked at me without expression, as if he had been waiting for me to ask. "She didn't outright say it. But she told me I was being sent in to protect and serve the District that had rescued me and 'done so much for me' - that's how she put it. And then she said, 'if anyone stands in your way, you must do what you need to do in order to eliminate them and carry on with your mission. Even if that means killing them. Even if it's Ms. Everdeen'."

I nodded. It was what I feared - Peeta had been sent in with Coin's agenda, without my permission or knowledge. In fact, by the time I was notified in Thirteen of his assignment, his boots had already been on the ground in the Capitol for three hours. I had tried arguing with Coin, but she refused to budge. Even Plutarch seemed a bit nervous, but he kept going on and on about what potential there was for propos "now that the star-crossed lovers were reunited to battle the rebellion". It was bullshit, but I seemed to be the only one there who knew it.

"I never wanted to kill anybody, though," Peeta continued. "Not even her. Not really. I know I tried that time, but... I don't know. I wasn't myself."

The silence between us hung thick for a moment before he asked, "But I have, haven't I? I've killed people?"

"Yes," I said cautiously. "Real, I mean."

"How many?" he asked. His voice sounded so innocent, like a child's.

"Three... that I know of. One was done for mercy - a girl who was slowly dying from a knife wound that Cato gave her in the arena. One was done for self-defense - Brutus was attacking you in the second arena, and you were trying to get to Katniss to save her. And one was... well, you weren't yourself. Mitchell was killed by accident," I said.

He looked down at his hands and rubbed them, as if to remove specks of invisible blood. "I guess that's supposed to make it easier to live with," he said.

But we both knew - it doesn't.


	4. Chapter 3

_I don't own or hold any rights to Hunger Games or these characters. Huge, huge thank you to wollaston, my beta extraordinaire and friend. _

"We need to talk," Plutarch said very seriously. In fact, it was one of the few times that his tone didn't sound like a propo voiceover. That alone was enough to get my full attention.

Plutarch had insisted on meeting in the deserted Training Center gym again. I told him he had a perfectly good office now in the mansion, especially since Paylor was officially making him "Hot Shit in Charge of Communicating", or whatever the actual title was. He refused though - he was paranoid that the mansion was still bugged. It definitely was when the rebels took it over from Snow, and he knew Coin had used the surveillance to listen in on her administration.

"I'm not going to be able to help you in Katniss's trial - not officially, anyway. I can't be on the tribunal, I can't be her defense representative. In fact, I'm not even supposed to help you at all from this point forward, since Paylor notified us of my promotion," he said.

"Yeah, congratulations by the way," I said. "Did they give you a fancy badge? A cookie?"

Plutarch flexed his jaw in frustration. "Be serious for a moment, Haymitch. You need my help on this."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. And if you haven't noticed, I'm very serious. I've never been more fucking serious in my life than I am about saving these damn kids, like I've been trying to for the last two years. And you're telling me I need your help, but I can't get it. So what the hell am I supposed to do? Why are you wasting my time?" I asked.

"I said I'm not supposed to help you. I didn't say that I wouldn't. We're just going to have to be very discreet about it. You'll be her defense representative and I'll pass on what I know from Coin's administration and Paylor's," Plutarch said. I let out the breath I had been holding. Technically, having an insider like Plutarch would give me an unfair advantage. But it was about damn time the odds were in my favor, or the girl's.

"So where do you suggest I start?" I asked.

Plutarch straightened his back before speaking. "Katniss's best defense stance right now is to convince the tribunal that she was not thinking clearly when she shot Coin. That her mind was so warped by trauma and shock, she got completely confused and meant to shoot Snow."

"It doesn't matter that Coin probably had it out for Katniss the whole time?" I asked. "Sent her hijacked lover in a battlefield to kill her? Made a 'clerical error' to send her sister into an active warzone?"

"We know that, but the tribunal probably won't be swayed. Virtually all of them will be ones who worked under her, either directly or indirectly. Don't get me wrong, Coin didn't exactly have a big fan club, including in her own district and the rebellion. But no one wants to be the first to call her out as a bad leader, or one who made morally unsound decisions. Remember, we're all supposed to still be mourning the loss of our 'great President Coin'," Plutarch said with a trace of sarcasm. "The one who freed us from the shackles of the Capitol."

I laughed - I couldn't help it. The realization that there would probably be monuments and statues and even songs written in Coin's honor was terrible, and I had to laugh to deal with it since I didn't have a bottle on me. One day there would be roads and buildings named after her, and I knew I'd to never step foot near them.

Coin had hated Katniss from day one. When the girl was brought in to Thirteen from the hovercraft, drugged and strapped to a gurney because she couldn't handle reality - District Twelve blown to dust, Peeta in the Capitol, the rebellion underway and planning to use her as a mascot - Coin took one look at her and was thoroughly unimpressed. "She's small. And rather plain-looking," Coin had said. "I thought she'd look more like her mother and sister."

"She takes after her father," I had said, holding a fresh cloth to the bloody scratches she left on my face.

"And he got himself killed," Coin sniffed with disdain. "I knew we should have saved the boy instead. Tell me when she's awake," she called out before disappearing through a set of double doors leading to the Armory.

A month later, I was in Coin's office when she was notified that Plutarch and Katniss had freed her prep team from their prison. I asked what the prep team was doing in prison in the first place, and she said "they broke the rules." I tried to ask for more explanation - I understood that they weren't supposed to hoard the food, but a month in solitary confinement seemed extreme. She looked at me and said, "They broke the rules, Haymitch. Rules like these were set in place so Thirteen could survive. If Katniss wants to survive here, she'd do well enough to learn to follow the rules herself. Even if she is the Mockingjay." Then she looked back at her screen, effectively ending the conversation.

Katniss shouldn't be the one on trial here, I thought to myself bitterly. But Coin would have never been put to trial - even if someone were brave enough to tell the truth about Coin, she would find a way to squash them and their accusations. Absolute power corrupts absolutely - Plutarch said that once, but I'm pretty sure he read it somewhere else.

"Well, anyone can see that she's traumatized. And Dr. Aurelius already said he'll testify about her mental state," I said.

Plutarch smiled. "That's wonderful. But it's just a start. I suggest that you talk to anyone from her past who can tell you about the trauma she's had. Not just in the rebellion and the arena. But now we all know about how hard life was for her after her father died - she said she nearly starved to death before Peeta gave her that bread. And she grew up in that terrible district, surrounded by all that coal and dirt and filth. I'm traumatized just thinking about it. Maybe the trial coverage on TV can have reenactments!" he said, his eyes lighting up at the thought.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Just another part of the show, huh?"

He ignored my comment. "Talk to everyone you can - Gale, Peeta, Effie, Annie, Johanna. I believe that lovely Delly Cartwright is still in Thirteen, but she can be brought to the Capitol to testify. Also, Katniss's prep team is here - they spent loads of time with Katniss, they must have talked with her about something meaningful we can use," Plutarch said. I wondered what Plutarch considered 'meaningful', since the only thing I've ever known prep teams to care about is what shade of feathers and nail polish to use at the moment. "I'm sure they all can speak to Katniss's state of mind far better than we can."

"Is this what it's gonna be like, Plutarch? We meet in secret and you tell me who I should meet with? If so, I think we can skip it," I grumbled. "It's not that I'm not grateful for the help you're giving me, but it sounds like we're trying to convince everyone how insane Katniss is and not how insane Coin was."

Plutarch looked around and dropped his voice to barely a whisper. "Coin had - has - a lot of enemies. Katniss was not the only one in her crosshairs. I can help you find these people. But if you go to the trial and attack the victim - the former president and leader of the rebellion who free Panem - you're bound to lose. Or worse, start a new rebellion that's a backlash against the Coin's."

Wouldn't want that, would we? I thought bitterly. To be honest, the more I saw of Coin's vision of "A New Panem", the more it sounded like the old Panem. Everyone in line, everyone under control. A power-hungry leader who wanted everyone under their thumb and giving nothing but approval. Same shit, different day. I had hope for President Paylor, but I'd seen too much of government and politics to believe any promises until I saw them happen.

"So Coin's just going to get off scot-free, isn't she? She'll be made into a martyr, and those in her administration will push for the same plans and techniques she used," I said.

"She didn't get away with anything, Haymitch, She's dead," Plutarch corrected. "And there's a new president in charge. And all we can do right now is concentrate on the problems we can do something about. Speaking of which, it's almost noon. We need to go meet with Paylor to tell her you're handling Katniss's defense."

That's right, I thought. We had to find out who would be handling the prosecution, and what kind of enemy they would be for me. We'd learn who would be on the tribunal and deciding Katniss's fate, and how long I had to pull this circus together.

Paylor had not chosen to take residence in Coin's old office - which of course, had been Snow's old office. She didn't say why, but that office was ridiculously big. You could probably fit most of my house from Victor's Village in it. Or even ten or twelve houses from the Seam. Instead, Paylor kept the same office she had when the rebellion first moved in to Snow's mansion. A medium-sized one on the third floor, close to a set of stairs and with a view of the front of City Circle. Good place for someone keeping their eye out for the country.

We arrived just as Paylor had invited her other guest to have a seat. "Plutarch, Haymitch," she said. "You remember Lieutenant Livilla."

Lieutenant Livilla always wore her hair back in a stark, tight bun at the crown of her head. Not a hair out of place - much like her mentor, Coin. I remembered that when Boggs had been reassigned from Coin's security and tactical details to the head of Katniss's protection details and leader of the Star Squad, Livilla was promoted to Boggs's former spot. She was born and raised in Thirteen, and drank every drop of Coin's bullshit propaganda. Coin had studied ancient leaders, ones throughout the wars that happened before the Dark Days. Livilla must have picked up the study, because she would often say shit like "the end justifies the means." In the emergency election, Livilla's name was on the ballot and she got 18% of the vote. I think she was rather bitter about it.

Plutarch and I shook her hand, studying her. She stood tall with her shoulders squared back, trying to look more professional and in control than her face seemed to convey. She studied us back, looking back and forth between the two of us before letting our hands go and sitting down in the chair before Paylor's desk.

"Haymitch, Plutarch, please have a seat. As you may have have guessed, Lieutenant Livilla will be the prosecution representative for Katniss's trial. We have five members of the tribunal selected, including myself." Paylor passed over a list of tribunal members - a bunch of people from various districts who had survived and supported the rebellion. None were from Thirteen - maybe that was something in our favor.

"The tribunal will be held two weeks from today," stated President Paylor. "All witness and evidence lists must be shared between the two of you," she said, indicating myself and Livilla.

Two weeks did not feel like nearly enough time for me. Maybe the "new Panem" could get their shit together and hire a new president in a few days, but I needed more than two weeks to save the life of a Mockingjay-turned-presidential assassin.

"President Paylor, many of my witnesses and evidence are still in District Thirteen. Given the time it takes to get a hovercraft sequestered and get back there to interview attendees, I'd like to ask for more than two weeks time," I said.

"I will make a hovercraft available for regular trips to Thirteen for both the prosecution and defense," Paylor said. "We don't have more time to give - I want this resolved ASAP."

"In that case," Livilla stated, "I'd like to request that we move the date up. Two weeks is enough time for important witnesses and evidence to be moved away or lost as everyone tries to sort out post-war recreation. And, I fear that the more time that passes, the more the tribunal may lose sensitivity to this matter. We're talking about the assassination of our president here."

"I know that, Livilla. I know it because I am the President now, due to the circumstances of this crime," Paylor stated. "I don't think the tribunal will be forgetting that anytime soon, especially within two weeks. If any witnesses or evidence need to be sealed or sequestered before or during this trial, bring it up with the tribunal and we'll make sure it happens if necessary."

"Plutarch," Paylor continued, "it should go without saying that you can not assist the defense or prosecution in this matter. However, you can be called on as a witness, if either the prosecution or defense requests it. You will be in charge of airing the coverage of this trial to Panem, and I ask that you do it with restraint and decorum. This is not a circus and it's not the Arena, it's a matter of life and death for one victim and one accused."

Plutarch nodded solemnly, but I saw right through him. Already, he was wondering how many hours he could book Caesar Flickerman for gavel-to-gavel coverage. I had to remind myself that while I truly believed Plutarch wanted Katniss to be acquitted, he also wanted to put on a show. I wasn't sure if any evidence he gave me would be designed to help her case or create a dramatic turn of events in the courtroom. He already told me the "storyline" of the case - poor little traumatized girl suffers a terrible childhood and worse (topped off with two rounds in the Arena, a war and death of almost everyone she knew and loved) goes insane and kills the wrong person. Too bad, so sad for the Mockingjay, and the hope was that the tribunal would have mercy on her and spare her life in exchange for years of therapy anywhere other than the Capitol.

He's a smart guy, Plutarch. And most of the time we agreed on tactics and strategies. But this time, I'd have to reserve final judgment for what was in the best interest of Katniss. About damn time I started doing that.

I didn't have many people I trusted here - or anywhere, really. I didn't back when I was in District Twelve, and I had even fewer now. What I would have to do is gather as many allies as possible, including those willing to talk about Katniss - and get their input. Katniss was still too far gone to talk to me, even if the guards would have let me in to see her. In the end, it was all up to me to win or lose.

Maybe that's why I had enjoyed playing chess with Peeta so much, especially these past few days. There were no politics, no propos. Every player started on equal footing and equal resources - the winner was determined based on what they did with those resources, and how they reacted to the other player.

Peeta's room was one of the few places I could hear myself think. I found myself spending more and more of my free time there, including after that meeting in Paylor's office. Even when Peeta would sleep or go somewhere else for therapy or treatments or meals, I would sit in there and think. It was nice.

The nurses didn't even make me check in at the front desk anymore. They just waved me on to Peeta's room. Sometimes I would stop and ask if Annie was up for visitors that day.

"Not today," a pink-haired nurse told me. "She's having a bad day after some tests were run this morning. Aurelius is in with her now, trying to help. Maybe tomorrow, Mr. Abernathy."

Most people in the Capitol called me by my first name, even if they had not met me. As a victor and national drunken laughingstock, most Capitol citizens felt comfortable enough with me to act like we were old friends. It was the younger citizens - those who grew up after my Games and were sympathetic to the rebellion and the plight of the victors - who treated me and everyone else from the Districts with a bit more respect and decorum. I wasn't used to it - would probably never be - but I liked it.

Peeta was already setting up the board when I came in. There was no set time that I would visit every day - just whenever I had the chance. At first, I feared he was setting up to play with someone else, and he wouldn't need me anymore.

"Expecting company?" I asked.

He looked up for a moment, then back to the board as he lined up the pawns. "You said you had a meeting with Paylor at noon to discuss the trial. I figured that after the meeting, you'd either go to your room and drink it off, or come here to play. You haven't been drinking as much lately, though - or maybe you're just finding a better way to hide it from your breath. But I think you want to stay sober enough to help Katniss and me. Which would mean you're coming here to think. If you're coming here to think, we might as well play a game or too."

I smiled to myself. "Your powers of observation are sharper than ever, kid."

"Just paying attention," he shrugged.

I sat down and Peeta made his opening move. He prefered a quieter, more positional game and often opened with a Queen's Gambit-style opening. It ended up offering smaller pieces in exchange for a stronger center. I had a variety of counterattacks I could do, some of which worked better than others. The problem was, I didn't yet have it sorted out which defenses worked best in what situation. I decided to try an Albin Countergambit.

Four moves in, he asked. "When's the trial?"

I studied the board, wondering if I was supposed to take that enemy pawn while I had the chance, or if I'd be opening myself up to danger. "Two weeks. Lieutenant Livilla from Thirteen is the prosecution representative."

He looked up. "Who?"

"I don't think you saw her much - she took over Boggs's spot on Coin's team after he started protecting Katniss. Big fan of Coin," I added.

He snorted a small laugh. "At least somebody was."

And I laughed - really, truly laughed for the first time in what felt like years. He laughed with me, or maybe at me. Either way, it felt good. For just that moment - playing chess with a friend and making jokes - life felt normal.

We settled down and I contemplated where to place my knight before he asked. "How is she?"

I shrugged. "About the same. Still singing. All the time, actually. It's kind of nice, if you just close your eyes and listen." And ignore the part where she's locked up and going insane, I omitted.

Two more moves. I took his bishop.

"So," I begin in what I hope is a nonchalant manner, "I'm gonna need witnesses to testify on Katniss's behalf. People who can talk about what she went through in District Twelve - being poor, dead daddy, mama in shock, and taking care of her sister. About how she almost starved, until you... well, you know what you did. Then about the Games. The pressure and danger Snow put you two in. Then putting you back in the Quell. And then... well, we can stop there," I said awkwardly.

Three more moves before Peeta answered. "I don't think I can, Haymitch. Check."

I looked up from the board in surprise. "Do you still think she's a mutt?"

"No," he said, shaking his head for emphasis. "No, I know she's not. That was the hijacking that made me think that. She's just... Katniss. But I still don't always know what's real. Even the memories that don't feel like memories, or the ones that do - I can't always tell what the details are. I can't remember what was a nightmare and what actually happened. Sometimes a memory is too intense - like, it's bright and shiny. Those are the ones that are usually wrong. But even the ones that aren't confuse me."

The kid still asked me "Real or Not Real?" questions every chance he got. Aurelius mentioned to me that they were trying memory reconstruction exercises, but progress was very slow. Mostly, he was just trying to sort out the lies from the truth.

"Besides," he added. "I've been performing and pretending for two years now. Performing in the first Arena as a friend of the Careers so I could save Katniss. Pretending afterwards that we were still star-crossed lovers, no matter how much it broke me inside. Then performing in the second arena with the pretend pregnancy, and trying to make sure Katniss survived no matter what. Then being captured and tortured and made to perform on camera for Snow. When I finally get rescued and brought to Thirteen, what do they do? They patch me up and send me to a warzone to perform in propos, not actually fight in the war. I'm sick of it. This trial is just more of it. It doesn't matter if I tell the truth, even if I remember what the truth is. All that's going to matter is if I perform how they want me to. And I'm sick of it."

"I understand, kid," I tried to explain.

"Do you?" he asked sarcastically.

"Maybe you don't recall but I've had to do quite a bit of performing, too. And since I'll be the defense representative, I'll practically be tap-dancing up there. But I need your help. No one knew her - knows her - better than you," I said. No one who's alive, at least.

"Gale," he says. His name is a complete sentence to Peeta.

I shook my head. "He knows the Katniss who grew up in the woods. The one who hunted for food. He doesn't know Katniss as a tribute, or victor. He doesn't know why she has nightmares every night, or who she reaches out for across her mattress. It ain't Gale."

Peeta shook his head. "It's not me, either. It's Prim."

He's right. In her seventeen, almost eighteen years, the biggest love of Katniss's life has been Primrose Everdeen. She's not the only one Katniss loves - or loved - but right now her heart feels empty from her sister's death. Katniss needs hope. That Hawthorne kid sure can't give her that.

"You once told me that she had no idea of the effect she has on people," I said. "Do you remember that?"

He closed his eyes. "Yes. We were in the training center?"

"That's right," I said. "But do you have any idea about the effect you have on her? In a way, you've had that effect on her since you started throwing wet bread at her, or whatever the story is."

He shook his head, either because he didn't agree with me, he didn't believe me, or he just didn't remember.

"She's not the kind of person who comes out and says it - she never was, and she's definitely not now. But kid, she doesn't have to say it. We all realized it at some point except for you two idiots. Some saw it in the first arena, or on the Victory Tour, or in Twelve, or the second arena. Everyone saw it in how she broke down in Thirteen without you," I said.

"What are you talking about, Haymitch?" he asked. His head is in his scarred hands. He looks too tired to have this conversation.

"She loves you, kid," I said.

"Get out, Haymitch." he hissed.

His forearms were starting to tense and I backed out towards the door, hoping I hadn't set off a fit of rage.

I turned and opened the door, and I almost didn't hear him say it.

"Okay."

"Hmm?" I asked, turning around.

"I'll help. But I won't perform, even if that means I don't get on the stand. But I'll help however else I can," he said. "For Prim."

_You can find me on tumblr as fnurfnur, and you can find my beta on tumblr as alonglineofbread. Chapters will now be posted every Monday AND Thursday!_


	5. Chapter 4

_I do not own or hold any rights to The Hunger Games or its characters. Big thanks again to my wonderful beta, wollaston. Check her out on tumblr at alonglineofbread, and you can find me on tumblr at fnurfnur. Enjoy!_

* * *

It felt like the longest day of my life. I chose to believe that it was, because if I tried to think about every day of my life where my emotions were slowly drained out of me until I was empty and every word I heard just seemed to make it worse, I'd lose count sometime after the death of my family and my first year as a mentor.

That day, I did what Plutarch asked. Talk to people who know her, he said. Get them to talk about her trauma, he said. The problem was, most of them were too preoccupied with their own trauma. It seemed we were now a nation of broken pieces, shoved aside with no thought as to how we were supposed to make ourselves whole. And then, when I learned what I had... I didn't know if I could ever have faith in anyone or anything again.

My day wasn't over yet, not even after back-to-back interviews and phone calls. I had recorded all of them on a little device Beetee gave me, and thank goodness I did. Most of the time, I was too stunned or numb to pay attention to what was being said. I had to pay attention when I played it back though, so I could write it all down. My only hope was that in these words and confessions, there was something I could use to save Katniss's life. Even if I couldn't record the most important part.

I pressed the play button on the device and listened, writing everything down in a transcript to use in the trial.

00:00

JOHANNA: What the hell is that thing?

HAYMITCH: It's a recorder. Don't want to miss anything you say.

J: You just want to keep listening to my sexy voice over and over again tonight, don't you?

H: (sighs) If I say yes, can we just get started?

J: Fine. You're no fun, Whiskey Dick.

H: Hey Sugartits, this is going to be evidence in a trial, so we can act professional, please?

J: (makes obscene gesture) Certainly. Please continue, Mr. Abernathy.

H: Tell me what you know about Katniss.

J: Brainless? She's a mess. A bigger mess than I am, maybe. And so full of shit. That whole 'star-crossed lovers' act made me want to barf, even when I figured out how much of it was an act. Blondie was obviously nuts about her even though she seemed as frigid as an ice cube, and she acted like she didn't believe she loved him, only at the same time she was pretending to the world that she was in love with him. The whole thing was annoying. I know you had a hand in it, so I blame you.

H: Yeah, yeah. Keep going.

J: And in the Capitol? I don't know what was worse, being tortured or hearing Blondie calling her name all the time. Seriously, was she the only piece of ass in District Twelve?

H: The kid sure thought so. Tell me about the time you spent together in Thirteen.

J: I stole her morphling, for the most part. Being in the war must have fucked her up good, but she still held it together better than I did. When we were together in Thirteen, she was definitely the sane one of the two of us. The medical staff only released me because Katniss said she'd watch over me. (laughter)

H: What was living with her like?

J: She can't take a joke. She has nightmares. Loud ones. And when she doesn't, she snores. But it didn't matter, because I can't sleep anyway.

H: Why not?

J: Fuck, Abernathy. You should know. Same reason you can't sleep. Because when you do, all you see are bad memories. And then, I... never mind.

H: What?

J: (sighs) When I was captured in the Capitol, when I fell asleep they'd use a cattle prod from District Ten to wake me up. So I learned not to sleep. I still don't.

H: I'm sorry.

J: Shut up.

H: I know.

J: Move on, okay?

H: Okay. Keep telling me about Katniss.

J: I wasn't allowed to go into war, even after all the training I had done. Brainless and I had dragged each other through training because we wanted revenge on Snow. And in the end, I wasn't allowed to go because they exploited my biggest fear. That was bullshit. But she passed, and I made her swear on her family that she'd kill Snow. I should be mad at her that she didn't.

H: You're not?

J: No. She gave... never mind. She's not that bad after all. Plus, she lost her family anyway. Like me.

H: Her mom's still alive.

J: Rub it in, why don't you?

00:14

ENOBARIA: I don't know what you want me to say. I didn't know her.

HAYMITCH: Just, anything. Anything you knew about her, or reflect on how hard it is to be a Victor.

E: I thought she got off pretty easy, actually. Her problem was that she fought back.

H: What do you mean?

E: You know why the Capitol liked me so much? I didn't them fight back. They wanted me to kill everyone in the Arena, so I did. They wanted me to celebrate their deaths, so I did. They wanted to remind everyone how vicious I was by turning my teeth into fangs, so I let them.

H: And Katniss didn't?

E: If she had, they would have tattooed feathers all over her and whored her out like Finnick. Like me. It's not so bad, once you just stop caring.

00:19

HAYMITCH: Annie, are you sure you're up for this?

ANNIE: No, but I want to do it. I want to help her.

H: How well did you get to know Katniss?

A: Not too well. Finnick thought a lot of her. He said she understood what it was like to have the one you love taken away and used against you. He thought she was brave even though she was breaking on the inside. He said - (cries)

H: It's okay, we can stop.

A: (shakes head) He said that when we had children, we would tell her the story of the Mockingjay and how she helped save Mommy and Daddy. (sobs)

H: I'm sorry, Annie.

A: I'm pregnant.

H: What?

A: I found out two days ago when they ran more tests.

H: Oh.

A: What kind of story do I tell our child now?

00:25

OCTAVIA: You want to speak to us?

VENIA: Is this allowed?

FLAVIUS: Are we on camera?

HAYMITCH: I do want to speak to you, about Katniss. It's allowed, and I'm only recording your voice.

O: Good. About the cameras, I mean. I must look a fright.

V: You're lovely, Octavia.

F: You both are.

V: It's okay. What did you want to ask?

H: Well, did Katniss ever talk to you about her past, or what she was going through when she was a Victor?

V: What do you mean?

H: I'm trying to document her trauma, from her past and the Games and the war.

F: She didn't talk to us about that. She didn't talk much actually.

O: I think she liked hearing about the glamorous parties in the Capitol, so I talked about those a lot. I mean, she was stuck in District 12 so much of the time, I just wanted to brighten her mood.

V: She seemed pretty poor. Before becoming a Victor, I mean. Can you imagine?

F: She was so filthy and hairy when we first prepped her. That would be enough to traumatize me. It took hours to make her look like a person instead of a beast!

O: And her nails! Do you remember how ragged they were?

V: They were always ragged - she bit them every time she got nervous. We always had to buff them out. Especially during the Victory Tour.

F: We had to do a lot during the Victory Tour - she kept getting thinner, and more pale. She looked positively sick!

O: I wanted to offer some pills to her, but Cinna said no. But then, he didn't want us to widen her smile or lift her breasts after she got out of the Arena, either.

V: Cinna thought she was beautiful just the way she was. He loved her so much.

O: Cinna was beautiful. (cries)

F: It's okay, love. Remember, the doctors said it's important to think of the good things when we get sad. Do you remember when Cinna first showed us Katniss's first interview dress?

V: Yes!

O: The Girl on Fire! Oh Haymitch, do you remember how beautiful she was?

F: I think we did a fine job, too. Her hairstyle was brilliant. And oh, her nails!

V: I loved her eyelash extensions, too. The sparkles!

F: Can you imagine spending your entire life, not experiencing that kind of beauty and glamour?

O: I don't want to think like that. It makes me think of Thirteen. There was no beauty there.

V: Think of Katniss, and how happy she was when we made her beautiful.

F: Think of how happy we were to see her when she saved us.

O: I think I agree with Cinna.

H: What's that?

O: She was beautiful just the way she was.

V: She still is.

F: Even with those terrible burns?

V: Yes.

00:39

LILY EVERDEEN: I only have a few minutes before I'll be needed in the hospital again. But if we don't get all you need, maybe you can come back during my next break? I want to be sure I do everything I can to help.

HAYMITCH: That's fine, we can work around your schedule. I know you're doing good work here.

L: I'm trying. But thank you.

H: Tell me about Katniss growing up.

L: She, um. She takes after her father. She looks so much like him, of course. But when he was still with us, she was full of smiles and always singing. Just like him.

H: And after he died?

L: (whispers) I don't know if Katniss ever told you this, but.. (pauses, wipes eyes)

H: We can stop if you need.

L: No, it's okay. (takes deep breath) When he died, it felt like I died, too. I might as well have. I was so sad, and this blackness came over me that I couldn't do anything. I didn't know what was real or not. I would hear his voice and it seemed so real, and sometimes I would see him in bed with me, and then he'd be gone. It's like I lost my mind, and I just gave up.

H: You gave up?

L: I couldn't do even the most basic things. I couldn't get out of bed, I couldn't speak. I should have been strong for my daughters, but I wasn't. The same thing happened to my mother when her parents died. But thankfully, my father was there to take care of me and the family business. But no one was there to take care of my daughters when I couldn't. So Katniss had to.

H: How did she do it?

L: It must have been so hard on her. She'd never talk to me about it after I recovered. But I know she sold most of our things, everything that could be spared. After a while, it didn't seem like there was anything left to sell. Then one day, she came home with two loaves of bread. Did you know that it wasn't until she was in the Games that I learned where the bread came from?

H: She never told you?

L: No. She didn't tell Prim, either. I think she was too proud to admit it. She got that from her father, too. But Peeta saved her. He saved our whole family. After that, she foraged for food and eventually learned how to hunt. She met Gale and they worked together. But she didn't smile anymore. And she definitely didn't sing.

H: So the trauma stayed with her?

L: Of course it did. She didn't just lose her father. She lost me. The difference is, I was still alive. And when I got better, she didn't want me back.

H: Thank you for telling me all this. I think it will help.

L: You know, when I was a little girl, all I ever wanted was to be a mother someday? And then I was, and every day was wonderful. Then I became a widow, and suddenly I didn't want to be a mother anymore. I'm so ashamed of that. Because I never got to be a mother to Katniss again. And she's all I have left now.

00:58

DELLY: Hi Haymitch! Can you hear me okay? This is my first time speaking on a phone, it's so exciting!

HAYMITCH: I can hear you fine. I'm recording this in case anything from this conversation can be used to help Katniss, okay?

D: Oh, absolutely! I hope I can help. This situation is just so tragic.

H: So what was Katniss like in Twelve?

D: Oh my goodness, everyone thought she was just amazing! I mean, when she was little she was just funny and kind and sang all the time. Did you ever hear her sing? It's just beautiful. Then her father died in that terrible mine accident, and she was sad and angry all the time. Her friends seemed to shy away from her, which didn't seem right. I don't think anyone knew how to approach her. But she's so strong, she just pushed through it. Then she started hunting, and...

H: How did you know she started hunting? Did she do a bad job of keeping it a secret?

D: Oh, no! I only knew because Peeta told me his dad started buying squirrels from her. And some other merchants bought from her and Gale too, so their kids knew. I mean, the food she sold was great so we were all grateful. It's not like we were going to turn her into the Peacekeepers. Heck, I think they even bought from her!

H: Did you know how Peeta felt about Katniss? Before the games?

D: Sure, lots of people knew. He didn't say anything, but it was obvious. In the Games, I was so scared for him - for them both! But when he confessed his feelings, and she seemed to feel them back... Oh my goodness, I was just a wreck. I was so happy for them.

H: Yeah, lots of people were.

D: When they came back, they weren't together. Except in public, I mean. Peeta was really depressed but he just hid in his new house. I visited the bakery to see him, and his mother said he didn't work there anymore, and it would be better if everyone left him alone. I wish I had not listened to her.

H: I wondered why he didn't get a lot of visitors.

D: I don't think she wanted anyone in town to see how sad he was, or how he struggled. She... Well, she wasn't very nice, and she cared more about what other people thought of her. I think she was mad that Peeta told everyone how his father loved Katniss's mom, and that her son loved a girl from the Seam. I guess that meant more to her than being a mother to her own son. I think she was ashamed of Peeta. Can you believe that? Ashamed of such a wonderful son, and a Victor?

H: She hated Katniss.

D: She hated everybody. I'm sorry, I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. It's not very nice.

H: (laughs) Don't worry about it.

D: I didn't see much of Katniss after she came back. She and Peeta stopped going to school. She stopped selling what she hunted - she just tried to give it to people, or sold it at the Hob. People said the relationship between her and Peeta was a big scam, but I didn't believe it.

H: Oh, really?

D: People don't go through something terrible together without developing a bond. And on the Victory Tour and after when you'd see them in town, you could tell. They had a bond. And in the Quell? No, that wasn't a scam. That was love. I still believe it.

H: Glad somebody does.

D: I have to believe in love, Haymitch. Like I have to believe the best in people. Because otherwise, there's just pain and war here. And I want to believe that people want it to get better. I want to believe that people can be happy and love again. It hurts too much to think otherwise.

01:27

CRESSIDA: Is that the new VOX722 recorder?

HAYMITCH: Huh? This thing? I don't know, Beetee gave it to me.

C: I think it is. It has excellent sound quality. I believe it holds about 24 hours of audio on its memory chip?

H: You'll have to ask Beetee about that. I just know to hit this little button here that says 'record'.

C: Sorry, I got carried away. Go ahead.

H: You followed Katniss around during the war to film propos. You were with her in Thirteen. and Twelve, and during her visits to Eight and Two. And then in the Capitol.

C: Yes. I've been watching her this whole time. It was never dull. (laughs nervously)

H: How did she do in front of the camera.

C: When she didn't realize she was being filmed, she was amazing. There's something about her that draws you in. She's suffered so much, but she has this strength that inspires others. People want to be strong, like she is.

H: Did you film her much in the Capitol?

C: We did before everything went to hell. When Boggs died. After that, it was more about survival. We just started dying, one by one. Boggs, then Mitchell, Messala, Jackson and Leeg 1, and Homes and Castor and Finnick. And it all felt like a blur. I think by the time we left Tigris's place, Pollux and I didn't even have a camera or any equipment on us. Propos didn't matter by then anyway. Sometimes I wonder if they ever mattered.

H: I think they did.

C: Thank you. Maybe it inspired some people. But it didn't prevent anyone from dying. I wish I could have done that.

01:45

GALE: Okay, I'm ready.

HAYMITCH: Tell me about Katniss.

G: You're gonna have to be more specific, Haymitch.

H: Katniss... Everdeen?

G: No. I mean, I've known her since she was twelve and a lot has changed since then. Do you want to know about the scared little girl who had to figure out how to hunt in the forest to stay alive? Or about the brave hunter she turned out to be? Or my best friend? Maybe about the girl who volunteered to die for her sister. Or the one who had to fake a romance just to stay alive. We can talk about the girl who came back from the Games, because she was definitely different. She was a Victor. The one who wanted to rebel but was too scared for her family. The one who left to go to the Arena again. Or we can talk about who she was when she came back and was in Thirteen. Or when Peeta tried to kill her. Or who she is now that... (Clears throat) Prim is gone.

H: All, I guess. Whatever you can share.

G: Fine. The first time I met her was in the forest past the fence. She was twelve, and so shy and quiet that when I asked her name, she mumbled and it sounded like "Catnip".

H: (laughs) I wondered why you called her that. I figured it was because you and the boy were all crazy for her.

G: No. No, Katniss and I were just friends. Hunting partners. Until a few months before her first Games, and I realized I wanted more. But I didn't say anything to her. I couldn't imagine us not getting together eventually, so I guess I didn't think I needed to. I know she didn't want to think about marriage or relationships or anything like that at that time. So I just waited, because I figured we'd be together soon enough.

H: How'd that work out for you?

G: Fuck you, Haymitch. The Games changed her. She volunteered for Prim and I know she didn't think she could win. But I did, because I know her. She's a hunter. She cares about surviving. And she did.

H: With Peeta.

G: Yeah, well. I could see how much she was faking it with him in the Games. Most of the time.

H: What happened when she came back?

G: We tried to go back to normal. But too much changed. She used to tell me everything. Now she had all this stuff she didn't want to share. I think she didn't think I would understand. And I didn't get to see her as much because I was working in the mines by then. She had all these duties now - she had to do fancy parties and dinners and speeches and pretend she loved Peeta.

H: Pretend?

G: I could tell. Most of the time. She wanted to run away from Twelve with me, and a bunch of others. You, too.

H: She wanted to take me with her?

G: Not sure why. But then I heard about the uprisings in other districts and I wanted to stay and fight.

H: You got whipped for it.

G: No, I got whipped for doing what I'd been doing for years - selling game and surviving. It was the Capitol who would rather have us starve.

H: But after that, she wanted to rebel all of a sudden. Wanted an uprising.

G: She got one. Just not how she thought.

H: Not how she wanted.

G: I know. But without those uprisings, we wouldn't have had the Great War. If Thirteen hadn't saved us and her after the Quell, we wouldn't have had a war. And now, we're free.

H: Except for Katniss.

G: She's a different person now. I don't understand her. Except...

H: What?

G: She blames me for Prim's death. She always will.

H: Why? Because you didn't save her in City Center? You'd been captured!

G: No, the bombs... I think they were mine. She thinks they were mine.

H: The ones the Capitol used to bomb the kids around the mansion?

G: No. The ones the rebels... Coin used to bomb the kids around the mansion.

H: Wait, what the fuck are you talking about, Hawthorne?

G: I didn't know she'd use them there, or at all. But those bombs were ones Beetee and I designed. It was my idea to have them explode first to draw in more forces, then explode again to take out a bigger kill. It was Beetee's idea to use the silver parachutes.

H: No... no. Hold on. Are you sure it wasn't the Capitol who dropped them? The hovercraft that dropped them had a Capitol seal! I read it in the official report!

G: I didn't see the bombing but when I heard about it, I knew. When I heard that Prim died, I knew.

H: Knew what?

G: That Katniss was gone. To me, at least.

02:31

PLUTARCH: I don't know how much I can testify about her trauma, but I'm happy to help justice move forward. (Points to recorder, mouths "is this recording?")

HAYMITCH: Yes, it's recording.

P: I'm also happy to help the prosecution should they require my testimony as well! I'm impartial to the verdict but eager to see swift but just resolution from our new government!

H: Yeah, yeah. Look, I need to know something. Did Thirteen have hovercrafts with Capitol seals?

P: Um... I don't see what that has to do with Katniss's trauma.

H: Just... Yes or no.

P: Well, yes. Thirteen had many Capitol resources which were smuggled over the years at great risk to both Thirteen and our Capitol spies.

H: The bombs at the President's mansion. Were they dropped by the Capitol or Thirteen?

P: Haymitch...

H: Just say it.

P: Haymitch, turn the recorder off.

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_I'd love to answer any questions or hear any comments/thoughts you have about this chapter! Things are gonna start getting nuts from here on out. Find me on tumblr at fnurfnur._


	6. Chapter 5

I do not own or hold any rights to The Hunger Games characters or story. HUGE thanks to my beta - the cheese to my macaroni, wollaston. Find her on tumblr at alonglineofbread, and me at fnurfnur.

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Plutarch made absolutely sure I had turned off the recorder - in fact, he carefully watched me press the "stop" button, then asked to hold the device himself so he could be see for himself. Once he was positive the recording had stopped, he slowly exhaled a long-held breath and leaned back in his chair, staring at his hands. After several moments of silence, I was getting pretty damn impatient.

"You know, if it's not on the record, I can't use it in trial. And if I can't use it in the trial, you're wasting my damn time," I snapped. My head was hurting from a full day of interviews, and I still had to go visit the boy. All I wanted to do at this point was go back to the mansion and drink until the details of the day were blurry. But after what Gale had said, I had to know the truth even if it was going to hurt. And there was no way it wasn't gonna hurt.

"Haymitch, this can not, under any circumstances, be on the record. What I'm about to tell you is beyond top secret and confidential. This is about national security and the protection of our citizens and government. Only two people in the world knew about this, and one of them is now dead", Plutarch said quietly, staring at me harshly.

"Then why are you going to tell me about it, if it's so hush-hush?" I asked.

He closed his eyes and smoothed his hair back. "Obviously you know something already, and I know you'll keep digging until you find out. Frankly, I'd rather you hear the whole truth from me than speculation from someone else. I'm not proud of what happened, and obviously it is not to be used in Katniss's insanity defense. What I'm about to tell you would have a devastating effect on our new government, and all of Panem, if it got out." He took another deep breath and paused, seemingly fighting some internal battle in his mind over whether he should talk or not. Finally, he cleared his throat and began to tell me his story.

"On the last two days of the war, we continued to get more and more intel that Snow's position was growing weaker. Peacekeeper troops were dwindling, Capitol citizens were scared and starving and angry, and he was out of options. He didn't even have any of his own hovercrafts left to make an escape. It was over for him and we knew we were winning - all we needed was for his side to concede. Our options were to wait it out until he surrendered, or force his hand. Coin wanted to make a move, and I agreed," he said.

"My clearance level should have kept me in the loop of all this. Why wasn't I informed, or any of the other lieutenants?" I asked.

"You were too busy trying to track down the whereabouts of your tributes and the rest of the Star Squad. The lieutenants were each busy with their own assignments of holding down the peace in their Districts or coordinating the deployment of their rebel troops into the Capitol. Besides, you know from being in the Control Room that Coin ultimately did whatever she wanted, despite anyone else's advice," Plutarch said. I nodded because I remembered it all too well. She would listen to the opinions of people in the room, but ultimately go with her own gut instinct. It was supposed to be what made her a good leader.

"The plan was to force Snow's hand to surrender while simultaneously turning the favor of all citizens - Capitol and otherwise - to support the new government once the war was over. By now, no one in the Capitol trusted Snow or wanted to follow him, thanks to Finnick's propo confession. Everyone believed that he was capable of the most terrible things. So if a terrible thing was done and he was blamed for it, everyone would believe that he was responsible," he said.

It was true. Finnick's confessions had blown everyone out of the water. By that point, it could be revealed that Snow ate kittens for breakfast and babies for dinner, and everyone would believe it.

"Once the Capitol's media team broadcast that Peacekeepers would be forcing citizens to share their homes with refugees, Coin got an idea. The media said that Snow might even be opening the mansion to refugees, but we knew that was an outright lie. There was no possible way he would open his doors to anyone, Capitol citizen or otherwise, because he had too many enemies and nothing to use as protection," he said.

"Yeah, yeah. So that's why Snow got the Capitol kids to gather around the mansion - as protection," I said, trying to get him to move along with the story.

Plutarch paused and shook his head sadly. "No, Haymitch. What I'm telling you is that Coin got our contacts in the Capitol to have Peacekeepers direct the children around Snow's mansion. Snow had no part of it - it was Coin who made sure the kids were there."

I shook my head in confusion. "No, no. That's not right. The Peacekeepers were ordered by Snow to protect the building by putting the kids around the mansion so that the rebels wouldn't attack it - wouldn't attack them. That's... that's what Coin said..." I trailed off, realizing what was wrong with that logic.

"It does sound like something Snow would do, doesn't it?" Plutarch asked gently.

"The bombs..." I started to say, before bile began to rise in my throat and I had to swallow it down.

"We called them double detonators," Plutarch said carefully, looking at his hands instead of me. "Something the Armory came up with. They have a dual core that houses individual explosive devices, which allows one side to explode about 90 seconds before the other side does as well. The idea is that the first explosion creates a first set of victims with a relatively small blast that is designed to injure, not kill. This gets the attention of others who go towards the site of the first explosion to assist the victims. When the second explosion hits, it's much bigger so the first victims and the responders are taken out."

My breath froze in my lungs as I started putting the pieces together. It felt like there was ice water in my spine and my brain was screaming at me. I remembered Gale saying that the double detonation was his idea. Just like sealing off the Nut was, too. What kind of mind comes up with shit designed to kill as many people as possible? A part of me wanted to snap Hawthorne's neck in two, and Beetee's and Plutarch's as well, but the other part of me pointed out the hypocrisy of that. One of those parts would eventually win out, I just wasn't sure which yet.

"The bombs were delivered via one of our Capitol-branded hovercrafts," Plutarch continued. He didn't pause to let any of it sink in, but pushed through as if he wanted the confession to be over with as soon as possible. "That way, it would look as if Snow dropped the bombs to sacrifice his people and the rebels that had overtaken the City Circle."

"Why even bother sending medic teams if the double detonation bombs were planned all along?" I ask. "You had to know they'd be caught in it."

"That was all part of making it look like it was Snow's action, not Coin's. Not ours," he corrected, still avoiding my eyes out of guilt. "Coin picked medic teams she thought would be expendable - she retained the surgery and trauma crews with the most experience, since we'd need them to fix our own soldiers."

Expendable. Like some spare change or a bit of twine for a barter. Not like a living, breathing person with a soul and a beating heart and a future and friends and family who -

"Did she think Prim Everdeen was expendable, too?" I asked. "Don't give me that 'clerical error' bullshit. Was Prim expendable only because Katniss wasn't?"

Plutarch finally looked at me with his red eyes opened wide in shock. "That wasn't me, Haymitch! I would have never agreed to that! That was all Coin! I didn't even know Prim was on the medic transport until it had already left!"

"You still let a medic transport fly off with sixteen people in it who were about to die! Because you and Coin wanted to end the war with a gigantic blood stain and leave the blame on Snow's front door!" I yelled.

He nodded and looked back down at his hands. "I told myself these were 'acceptable losses'. That those who died for our cause would be heroes to future generations. Coin said the end justified the means. I told myself that it would be so much better than it turned out to be."

Plutarch was a Gamemaker who still saw people as props, and death as a ratings grabber. Telling me the story seemed to put some sense into him, or at least some shame. But I was familiar with that shame, too. Hadn't I spent over two decades sending kids off to die for someone else's reasons? Didn't I sit by in the Control Room as hundreds, thousands were killed? Maybe I should have been sympathetic to him, but I was having trouble at that particular moment.

"Why did Coin want Prim dead? Did that little girl know that Coin had sent Peeta in to kill her big sister?" I asked.

He shook his head quickly. "No. Not that I know of, at least. She and her mother kept so busy in the medical ward. I'm not even sure when they found out that Peeta was there, or when they heard the reports that the Star Squad was dead, or if they ever even got the news that they were still alive. I don't know how anyone heard those things, actually. I used to oversee updates to the general population in Thirteen, but that all fell away during the final days of the war. I assume someone took over, but I don't know. I was just in that Control Room, locked up with Coin and focused on winning the war."

"You mean you were too busy playing with people's lives like they meant less than shit, and going along with whatever Coin wanted. When you found out Prim was on the transport, did you even bother saying anything? Or was that another 'acceptable loss'?" I yelled.

His eyes met mine again, pleading with me to find something sympathetic in them. "I was furious, Haymitch. I asked her what was the point of killing her, what goal would it accomplish? After all, she was underage, and had barely started training with the doctors. If she was sent out there, it was practically guaranteed that she'd be severely injured, if not killed. Probably killed," he said.

"Not 'probably'," I corrected. "Definitely. She and those medics didn't stand a chance of surviving when you and Coin sent them in."

His face crumpled in shame as the last bit of his public mask fell away. "Yes, well. She said that Katniss had been the symbol of the war, and now the war was about to be over. She said..." He stopped and took a deep breath to settle himself. "She said that now Katniss needs a push to be the symbol of the victory, and Coin needed to make sure that Katniss would be on the right side."

My jaw dropped in disbelief. "Did that batshit crazy woman think Katniss would be on Snow's side?"

"No, no!" Plutarch corrected. "I mean that Coin wanted to make sure Katniss was on her side. To endorse her as a leader and be another person following her. Coin feared that after the dust settled, there would be an anti-war backlash from people who would say that the costs were too great, and that someone not involved with the war should be put in charge. Coin was hellbent on leading Panem after the war, and she had plans to make Snow and the Capitol suffer. She needed the Mockingjay's cooperation. She wanted to give Katniss a reason to want vengeance."

The irony made my head hurt. Coin killed Katniss's little sister, along with hundreds of Capitol children and dozens of rebel medics and soldiers, and did it so that Katniss would have an even bigger reason to want vengeance against Snow. Katniss had already vowed to kill Snow, but that wasn't enough for Coin.

She underestimated Katniss, though. She underestimated the girl's ability to think for herself, figure out the truth, and resist against what everyone told her to do. Katniss sure as shit always resisted what I told her to do, and I'd helped her survive two trips to the Arena.

As upset as I was at Plutarch and Gale and Beetee and every person involved in Coin's plan, I couldn't bring myself to actually hold on to the anger. It was Coin who approved it all. It was her name, her fingers pulling the strings behind it all. She was the one who wanted Capitol kids to die to further her own politics. She and Snow were the same.

And in a flash, I realized exactly why Katniss killed Coin, and why she chose to do it when she did. It wasn't just revenge for killing her sister, although that was certainly a big part of it. Katniss saw that Coin was just a repackaged version of Snow - the thirst for power, the schemes to put others under her control, the political games to ensure she got her way. If Coin continued as president, Panem would be back where it started. Worse, actually - because we were still dealing with a great loss of life and resources from the war. Desperate times and desperate people would look to Coin for strong leadership and accept her tyranny in exchange, and her reign would be cemented before Katniss could stop her.

Katniss Everdeen - that damn girl, hero to just about every man, woman and rugrat in Panem and pain in the ass to everyone who really knew her - killed Coin and sacrificed herself to save Panem's future.

I told Plutarch my realization and he just stared at me, not confirming or refuting it. He surely had a lot of demons to battle with on his own terms now. I couldn't help but think he deserved every one.

"And you still want me to say the girl is crazy and protect the reputation of your precious Coin," I hissed. "Even though you know the truth. You were right there next to her, nodding your head the whole time as she ordered the deaths of hundreds of civilians and medics that we were all supposed to protect. And you still want to protect her."

"Not her, Haymitch!" he protested. "I'm protecting Panem! Can you imagine what would happen if the truth about Coin got out? If the rebels who nearly lost their lives and the families of the rebels who died found out that they were fighting the whole time for someone who did this? What would happen if the country realized their sacrifices weren't for the promise of a new and fair government after all, but just another power-hungry person in charge? That 'the new Panem' was built on a foundation of murder and lies?" he asked. "I'll tell you what would happen. The riots would start again. Only this time, it would be everyone. It would be complete chaos - nationwide anarchy within hours. It would be the end of everything - our country, our government, our future, our survival. We'd just end up killing each other until there was no one left."

I shook my head in disbelief. "There has to be another way. Katniss is a hero to this country and people deserve to know of her sacrifice. She deserves more than this. I can't throw her to the wolves and hope the tribunal thinks she's too crazy to execute."

"The people still love Katniss, Haymitch. We've been doing opinion polls to get ready for the trial, and over two thirds of this country still believe in the Mockingjay," he said.

"What the hell does that mean?" I asked.

"It means that she's still a hero to this country, even after killing Coin. The people don't need to know about the real reasons why Katniss did it. They don't care. She'll always be their Mockingjay," he said.

I felt sick. "She hates being called that, you know?" I asked him.

He smiled a little. "I know. But she hates it more when you call her Sweetheart."

I didn't stay long after that. If I spent much more time around Plutarch in that moment, I was either going to kill him or vomit on him. As good as both of those options sounded, I still had one more interview to do that day.

Dr. Aurelius pulled me aside in the mental ward before I made it to Peeta's door. "He's having a rough day," he said gently. "You may not get what you need for the trial today. If not, you can try again tomorrow."

I tried to smile in gratitude but my face couldn't quite make the effort. "Thanks for the heads up. I'll do what I can."

"Hit one of the emergency buzzers in the room if the situation gets out of control," he reminded me. "I'm almost done on my report for you, by the way. I've got a pretty full account of the trauma Miss Everdeen has sustained in her life and the effect they could have had on her, leading up to her current mental state. It should be thorough enough to leave no question about Miss Everdeen's sanity."

At this point, I thought Katniss was the most sane person in the entire country. But I kept that to myself for the time being, and just nodded in thanks. I peeked in the window to Peeta's room and saw him pacing back and forth. He didn't have restraints on, but he had been pulling at his hair at some point, leaving it in the sweaty, disheveled state it was in. He must have stopped messing with his hair at some point and picked up the rope, which he deftly knotted and re-knotted while pacing even though his hands were shaking.

I knocked out of courtesy but entered before he could respond. "Hey kid," I said, trying to sound lighthearted but failing miserably. "Bad day?"

He didn't stop pacing or knotting as he spoke. "It's a very bad day," he said, keeping his eyes on the floor moving in front of him. "You're here to get testimony from me, and I don't even know if my memories of her are real or not. Her life is on the line, and I still can't be sure of most things I remember. The only ones I know for sure are what's happened since I was rescued. And those are so awful..." he choked down a sob.

"Hey, hey. Calm down," I said. I was never good at this "comforting" thing, so I was at a loss how to help him. "Listen, just... just sit down with me and we can talk. Or we can do this another day, if you want. Why don't we just play a game - I'll set up the board."

He shook his head violently. "No! No, it will only get worse if I put it off. I have to say it. I have to tell somebody. And it's so bad... I have to tell someone, so that someone else can think I'm bad, too. I'm sick of everyone treating me like a war hero or a piece of glass when I know the truth. I did terrible things, Haymitch. Mitchell, and - "

"Wait," I cut him off. "We already know about Mitchell. That was not your fault. That was the hijacking taking over you. Not you."

He shook his head again. "You say that, but it was still my hands that pushed him into that pod. And it wasn't just him, Haymitch."

This was news to me. Was he flashing back to that girl from the first Games, or Brutus in the Quell?

He abruptly stopped pacing and leaned against the wall, steeling himself to speak. "Haymitch... Prim is dead because of me."

That little girl had a guaranteed starring role in my nightmares tonight. It seemed that everyone wanted to take the blame for her death. But I couldn't see how the kid could be at fault, unless there was something Plutarch hadn't told me. "What are you talking about, boy?"

He closed his eyes and wrapped the rope around his hands, flexing it until it was taut against his wrists. "When the bombs first went off, I saw Prim running towards the blast site. I was there in City Circle - I followed Katniss and was just trying to keep her in my sights. The bombs went off and I looked all around to find Katniss and make sure she wasn't hurt. That's when I saw Prim run right past me, right to the kids who were hurt. Then I heard Katniss yell her name, and I looked to the sound of her voice. The bombs went off again as I was trying to get to Katniss. I didn't even realize I was on fire, I just saw that Katniss was, and I dragged her away until I could smother the flames. I had to make sure she was okay, that she was alive and no one could get to her. By the time I went back for Prim, it was too late," he finished, hot tears sliding down his face and onto the floor.

"Peeta...it's not your fault. You saved Katniss's life." I tried to reason with him, but I had a feeling he wouldn't accept it.

"I should have done more! I should have grabbed someone to help, or I should have moved faster. I should have done something more, but I didn't! Her sister died because I just kept dragging Katniss farther and farther away to make sure she was safe, instead of getting help for them both."

He slid to the floor in a crumpled heap, burying his face in his arms to cry. I was speechless. He just told me that he'd saved Katniss - even at the risk of his own life and flesh - and he was devastated that he couldn't do more. I didn't understand what else he thought he could do - how could he expect so much of himself and ask for so little from everyone else?

I wanted to fall apart for him. I wanted to take his grief and his guilt and his sadness away from him so that he could stop suffering. I wanted to tell him that if anyone deserved peace and happiness, it was him. But I couldn't make those words come out.

"It's just like when we were kids," he continued, his voice muffled against his skin. "She thinks she owes me so much for throwing her the bread, but it was nothing compared to what I should have done. I should have gone out there and handed her the bread, should have taken more for her, and made sure she got home. Instead I was a coward," he said, a bitter tone taking over his voice as his own self-hatred creeped in.

"You know, the next day in school... I kept looking at her to make sure she was okay. But every time she looked back at me, I couldn't bear it. I had to look away, because I was so ashamed of myself. And when I saw her in Coin's office that day before the vote, I couldn't look at her then either. I'm still just a chicken shit Merchant kid. Worthless and good for nothing, just like my mom always said."

I slowly walked over to him, treading gently between his sobs and my broken heart. When I was next to him and he hadn't flinched or moved away, I slid down to sit next to him, and carefully placed a hand on his shaking shoulder in what I hoped was a reasonable facsimile of a comforting gesture.

"You're not worthless. You're not good for nothing. You're the bravest person I've ever known, kid. One day, I want you to realize how good you are, and how good you are for that girl. You're one of the last good people left in this world, and I want you to know that. But more than anything, I want you to know that Prim's death is not your fault. You didn't send her in the path of a bomb. You didn't sacrifice her for your own gain."

He let out a tortured scream into the safety of his own arms, then slowly stopped shaking. His breathing started to even out and the tears dried up after a few minutes. But he didn't want to look at me, not yet. I was afraid that when he did, I would shatter.

"It was Coin, wasn't it?" he asked, softly and tentative, like a child coming to an adult realization.

He deserved to know, even if just to ease his own pain. "Yes," I admitted. "And I'm not going to let Katniss die just because she was the only one who could stop her."

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_I'd love to know what you thought of this chapter, either in a review, a PM or find me on tumblr at fnurfnur!_


	7. Chapter 6

_I do not own or hold any rights to The Hunger Games, the characters, or the two lines from Catching Fire that are quoted in this chapter. Thanks and big, sloppy kisses to my beta, wollaston._

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Katniss Everdeen had a shitty life and it made her crazy. That's the gist of what Aurelius said on his report.

A couple of days after Plutarch spilled his guts, Aurelius sent over an advance copy. It was a very comprehensive account of the sum total of suffering endured by a poor innocent girl who became a national icon. 108 pages that would make even the most cold-hearted bastard feel sympathy towards Katniss and believe that she was too nuts, or "mentally disoriented", as the doc called it, to be held accountable for her actions when her arrow "accidentally" flew directly into Coin's heart.

This was Katniss's best chance for a defense, and anyone with half a brain and a lick of sense would have grabbed it with both hands and pleaded for the girl's life with it. But anyone like that wouldn't have done most of the things I've done in my life.

I tried to build an insanity defense for Katniss - I really did. Between Aurelius's report, the interviews I had of those who could attest to her hard life, and her current behavior of randomly singing and refusing food in lock-up, there was definitely enough to convince the tribunal that her life should be spared. The problem was, my heart wasn't in it. I knew that when she let that arrow fly, she was thinking clearly and aiming for her intended target. Even though insanity might have been the defense everyone else thought was best, I didn't feel right to me.

I studied the reports and interviews in my room. I refused Paylor's offer of an actual office but accepted a television so that I could keep my eye on the girl. I kept the channel tuned to her at all times, forcing me to keep going when my own demons rose up and tried to stop me. There were times when I just wanted to say hell with it to the whole damn thing. When I thought the world was too fucked up to make a difference anymore. Then just when I'd be ready to give up and give over to a bottle, she'd start singing again and that promise I made to the boy would eat away at my resistance.

But after a few days, the Mockingjay seemed to lose her voice. She stopped singing and it seemed like that last little spark of life she had in her was going away. I studied her on the screen, trying to figure out what was going on in her head. Her eyes stared out at nothing all day and night, and she lay on the stained mattress on her back with arms open. She was welcoming death to come and take her home. She had no way of knowing I was trying to reach her first.

It killed me that I was trying to save her by tearing her down - calling her "too crazy to be believed" while monuments were being planned in Coin's honor. Insanity may have been a perfectly logical defense, but it made me sick to think that no one would ever know the real reason she did it. How her brain was working perfectly when she swung her aim upwards and used one arrow to put a stop to another cycle of tyranny. And if no one knew the truth, there would be no one to make sure it didn't happen again.

I knew the truth about Coin, but it didn't make a bit of difference if I couldn't use it to free the girl. There was no real evidence against Coin - Plutarch made sure of that to cover his own ass.

But then, no one knew _that_, either.

The way I saw it, I had two choices. Take the safe route with an insanity defense and hope that they would at least give her a comfy straightjacket to spend the rest of her life in, or I could take a risk.

It was the biggest risk I ever took in my whole damned life. And that's really saying something. I didn't tell anyone what I had planned - not even the boy. Peeta's own sanity was still too precarious and he'd come too far to have me screw it up for him.

By the time I had my plan and everything I needed, it was two days before the trial was supposed to start. I requested an urgent meeting with Paylor and the tribunal, Lieutenant Livilla and Plutarch to discuss some parliamentary procedure nonsense for the trial. It was important that I catch them off guard - especially Plutarch. So I opened my mouth to everyone as soon as Paylor closed the door to her office.

"President Coin was a murderer, a war criminal and a traitor to all of Panem. Had she been tried for these crimes, she would have been found guilty and executed. I'm here to ask that the charges against Katniss be dropped immediately," I said.

Seven faces looked back at me in silence and varying degrees of shock. To Paylor's credit, she just raised an eyebrow. Two of the tribunal members looked scandalized, and the other two looked confused. Livilla looked angry and her jaw was twitching as she tried to come up with a response. Plutarch... well, I might have just shaved a few years off the end of his life.

Livilla found her voice first. "Are you drunk?"

I snorted. Of course that was their first thought. "No, princess. But I sure wish I was."

"It's _Lieutenant_, and if you're not drunk, then what the hell is wrong with you? Your girl assassinated the president in front of the entire country. Is your defense at the trial seriously going to be telling ridiculous lies about the victim? The same victim who had just led a rebellion and liberated this entire nation from the shackles of the Capitol?" she yelled. _Someone's been practicing her opening argument_, I thought.

"It's my defense, but you don't want me using it at the trial," I said.

"Because it's absurd and an obvious lie," Livilla said.

"No," I said. "Because I have proof, and when I share it on live TV at the trial, it's going to tear this new government and our entire country apart." I looked straight at Plutarch so I could watch the color drain from his face as I continued. "Like a bomb."

"What proof do you have, Haymitch?" Paylor asked.

I sat back in my chair and smiled. "Well, I'd hate to ruin the surprise for the trial. It just won't have the same impact if you all have to pretend to be shocked."

Paylor sat back to match my posturing, and folded her arms in front of her chest. "You called us all in here today, Haymitch, and asked for the charges against Ms. Everdeen to be dropped and made some very serious allegations against our former president, who also happens to be the victim in this case, and unable to defend herself. I believe we've earned the right to be a bit skeptical. So, unless you'd like this tribunal to consider censoring you during the trial to prevent you from starting a national riot, I'm going to ask you to share your evidence before we go any further here."

I knew they'd ask for evidence. You can't go around accusing people of a heinous war crime and expect everyone to accept it at face value. The problem was, Plutarch had made me turn the tape recorder off before he revealed anything. He told me the truth, but left me with nothing to show for it.

But the tribunal didn't know that.

"I have testimony from three individuals who were in very important positions in the rebellion during the war. All three have said on the record that the bombs that took out hundreds of children, citizens and our own medics - including an underage nursing trainee who was also the Mockingjay's sister - were sent there on orders from President Coin, not Snow. I believe I heard the media call it 'the final atrocity in Snow's reign of terror'. The problem is, Snow had nothing to do with it. The atrocity was planned and executed by our 'hero', President Coin. When our citizens find out that they put their faith in a leader who would so easily murder innocent citizens and children, including Prim Everdeen, and framed Snow for it, they're not gonna put up with it. Any trust they had in this new government will be shot to hell. It will be..." I looked to Plutarch to make sure he knew his role in this. "Plutarch, how did you say it? 'Nationwide anarchy within hours', I think."

Everyone in the room turned to look at Plutarch, whose face had gone from ghost white to bright red. He clutched a fistful of his robe in each hand, and seemed to be doing everything he could to not jump across the table and strangle me. In a tight and controlled voice, he said, "And may we see this testimony, Haymitch?"

"I'll do you one better," I said while reaching into my coat pocket for the recording device Beetee had given me. "I've got it all recorded, right here. Every bit, on the record," I said, staring right at Plutarch.

"Please go ahead and play them for us," Paylor said. "Then we'll decide how to proceed."

"My pleasure, President Paylor. I'll play them in the order I recorded them. First, we have the testimony of Lieutenant Gale Hawthorne. In his interview, he revealed that he believes the bombs deployed in City Center were ones designed by him and Beetee."

I played Gale's interview for them, in its entirety. They didn't need to hear what he had said about Katniss, but I wanted them to. If anyone saw the effect the Games had on Katniss, it was Gale. All that time, he had no choice but to stand back and watch his best friend change into someone else - someone damaged in a way he could never understand.

When the juicy part of Gale's interview played, I watched everyone react to Gale's description of the bombs. How it was his idea to have the double explosion, and Beetee's idea to use silver parachutes to draw people towards the bombs before they had detonated. In an instant, everyone's eyes got just a little bit wider, their jaws a bit more slack. Lieutenant Hawthorne was very respected in the rebellion and by every single person in this room. His testimony meant a lot.

I paused the tape before the next interview. "The next one is testimony from Plutarch Heavensbee, who shared the Control Room with Coin during the last days of the war. In his interview, he says it was Coin - not Snow - who decided to gather children from the Capitol and bomb them, as well as anyone who responded to those children such as our own medic teams. He also confirms that Coin sent Prim Everdeen to the Capitol on purpose, in order to terrorize and therefore sway the influence of her big sister, Katniss."

The interview played and this time, I didn't watch everyone's reactions. I just stared at Plutarch, because he was so, _so_ sure that he turned that recorder off. He watched me do it and then held it in his own hands to be sure it didn't get turned back on. So as he heard his most shameful confession played back to him in a room full of people, all he could do is look at me and wonder how.

No one said anything when Plutarch's interview was over, but I could see that the effect was devastating. I cleared my throat to get their attention. "The final testimony is from Beetee, the other designer of the 'double detonator' bomb. He confirms the design and creation of the bombs - he made every one of those bombs himself - and testifies that Coin requested all of them to be loaded to a Capitol-branded hovercraft that was in Thirteen's possession."

Beetee's interview wasn't recorded until yesterday - it was a last minute addition after he helped me out with a little something for this meeting. At first, he didn't feel comfortable helping me with what I needed - after all, this was evidence to be put on the record, and had the potential to tear the nation apart. But his own conscience was damaged - every night, he saw visions of his bombs falling from the sky and killing innocent children. Not the angry Peacekeepers and Capitol soldiers he envisioned as he made each bomb with painstaking craftsmanship.

As Beetee's interview played, a spark of understanding lit up Plutarch's face. I knew he was remembering the same thing I was - a certain moment from the Quarter Quell.

Katniss and Finnick chasing the screams of their loved ones.

The torture of hearing their voices, and wondering if the screams were real.

Beetee's discussion of how easy it is to fake...

_"Could they do that, Beetee? Take someone's regular voice and make it…"_

_"Oh, yes. It's not even that difficult, Finnick. Our children learn a similar technique in school..."_

As it turned out, it's even easier to take someone's voice and make it say whatever you want it to. In this case, we made it say what Plutarch had said off the record. Between my memory and the bits picked up by Snow's remaining recording devices spread around City Circle, it was remarkably easy to recreate.

And Plutarch knew the recording was fake. But every word on there was true, because it was what he actually said. Between that and the real recordings of Gale and Beetee, he couldn't refute it. Not to this room, at least - because they had already heard what he said, and the damage had been done. Even if he wanted to try and deny it to them, the shock of hearing the tape had shook him to his very core - enough to rip the mask of control from his face and make any lies he told completely transparent. But I had enough faith in Plutarch to believe that he wouldn't deny it. Everyone word in that interview was the truth. Beetee and I just reconstructed it so everyone could hear.

Plutarch kept looking at me, and I couldn't tell which emotion was stronger with him in that moment: anger or respect. If that evidence was played in court, not only was the future of Panem is danger but his life as he knew it would be over. Forget his fancy position in the President's Cabinet. He would be made a scapegoat for Coin's war crimes and brought to justice, either in a court or through the anarchy of the people. He knew his best bet moving forward was not to deny the recording and dispute the testimony of Beetee and Gale, but to do everything he could to prevent anyone outside this room from knowing.

The playback of Beetee's interview stopped, and silence filled Paylor's office. The tribunal members looked at her and each other for a moment, speaking untold volumes with just a few pointed glances. Finally, Paylor cleared her throat and spoke up. "Well, this certainly does change things."

Livilla jumped to attention in her chair. "President Paylor, I understand that this evidence certainly paints a different portrait of Coin and her actions in the war. However, it doesn't change the fact that she was still killed. Haymitch says she would have been found guilty at a trial - but she wasn't given an opportunity to have a trial and defend herself because she was killed. If you let Katniss go on account of Coin's actions, you're sending a message that it is acceptable to circumvent our process and one's right to a trial, and act as judge, jury and executioner."

"And if you don't let Katniss go in account of Coin's actions," I chimed in, "this evidence against Coin will be played in the trial coverage for everyone to see. Thanks to all of the preparation and promotion Plutarch's team has done, I do believe every television in Panem will be tuned for gavel-to-gavel coverage."

If looks could kill, Plutarch would have been hovering over my dead body right then. Sorry Plutarch, I thought. You're just too good at your job.

"Everybody who is not in the tribunal - get out of my office for five minutes so we can discuss this," Paylor demanded. Livilla, Plutarch and I exited quickly. I started to lean against the foyer wall outside of Paylor's office with Livilla, but Plutarch had other plans.

"May I have a word, Haymitch?" he asked. But it was clearly not a request since his hand had grabbed a handful of my shirt and was dragging me into another office before I could respond.

The door was closed and locked before he turned around to face me. "What the hell is the matter with you?" I made you turn that recorder off!"

"Careful, careful Plutarch," I said, pointing up to the ceiling. "Remember there are bugs everywhere. You wouldn't want to be caught saying something you didn't want everyone to know."

"I ought to drag you and Beetee in front of Paylor and the tribunal for falsifying evidence," he hissed as he paced back and forth like a trapped animal. "See how much they appreciate being lied to."

"But you won't, because you know that every word on the tape is the truth. And deep inside you, there's a part that's relieved. Because you don't have to carry the shame by yourself anymore," I said.

He stopped moving, and turned to look at me. "If this gets out, it will destroy me," he said.

"That's why I called this meeting before the trial, Plutarch. I don't want to play this in court for everyone to hear. I don't want to Panem to fall. I don't want you to be punished any more than you're already punishing yourself," I said. "I'm taking a gamble here. But it's for Katniss's freedom. And to prevent the same thing from happening again."

He laughed - the son of a bitch actually laughed. "If Paylor doesn't become like Coin or Snow, someone else will. Power corrupts people, and the fear of losing power corrupts them even more. It's only a matter of time."

"Maybe power just attracts those who can be corrupted," I said.

There was a knock on the door, and we could hear Livilla tell us they were ready to see us. I patted Plutarch on the shoulder before I opened the door and whispered, "Remember, it's all part of the show."

Paylor asked us to have a seat, and closed the door before speaking. "Haymitch, Livilla. We've discussed the options presented to us. If the evidence is played in trial, the effect it could have on our government and the future of our nation is immeasurably devastating. If the evidence is not played in trial, Katniss's right to a fair trial with all relevant evidence is eliminated. If we let Katniss go without an explanation to the public, there will be an outcry for answers from a government that I'm trying to make as transparent and accessible as possible. The tribunal has discussed these options, and determined that none of them are acceptable."

Okay, I wasn't expecting that. "So what now," I asked.

"What happens now is that you and Lieutenant Livilla hammer out a compromise that allows justice to be done and the charge of Coin's murder to be answered without impeding the defendant's rights or tearing down our government," she said.

"Oh, is that all?" I said with more sarcasm than was probably necessary when addressing the people who held Katniss's future in their hands.

Paylor smiled tightly. "You both are intelligent, creative individuals who are well-versed in the particulars of this case. The tribunal is confident that you can work out a solution."

Plutarch took an opportunity to speak up. "President Paylor, forgive me but the trial is in two days. What should happen if a compromise is not met by then?"

"Then the trial will be postponed. I will not rush this compromise and mediation in order to preserve TV ratings. The trial will happen when and if it is necessary and both parties are prepared," Paylor said.

Plutarch nodded politely, but his eyes widened in panic at the idea of filling all that airtime that had been set aside for 24/7 trial coverage. I wanted to suggest that maybe everyone in the Capitol should learn to turn the TV off once in a while, but I thought I'd pissed him off enough for the day.

We agreed to all meet at Paylor's office at noon tomorrow for an update. When the meeting was over, Plutarch stormed away to his office. Livilla and I agreed to meet in her office in two hours. That gave us enough time to grab our notes and materials, as well as a bite to eat. It also meant I could visit the boy and get a quick game in to clear my head.

When I got to his room, he looked well. Eyes clear, genuine smile on his face - even the bags under his eyes didn't look so bad that day. He had the board all set up for us, even though he didn't know when I'd be coming over. Just that I would.

"Hey kid. Having a good day today?" I asked, taking a seat.

He smiled and nodded, actually proud of himself. "I am. No nightmares last night. I woke up feeling strong. Aurelius went for a walk with me on the hospital roof gardens so I could get some fresh air. It's been a good day. How about you?"

I shrugged, not wanting to give anything away just yet. "Fine, fine. You know, meetings about the trial and stuff. All pretty boring." Peeta made his opening move on the board. I matched it.

"How's she doing?" he asked. I ran my hand over my chin, considering my next move and pretended it was the chess board I was thinking about.

I made another move on the board. "About the same." My gut twisted - for some reason, I only had trouble lying when it was Peeta on the receiving end.

He moved his knight. "Is she still singing?" he asked.

My hand was back on my chin, and I wished I could just cover my entire face and not look at him. "Not so much anymore. She mostly just rests."

His brow furrowed as he looked at the board, but I knew his mind was elsewhere. My pawn to e6. His bishop to g5. My pawn to c5. His pawn to e3. We continued in silence for several minutes. He put my king in check but I avoided capture.

"Aurelius wants to let me spend some time working in the hospital kitchen, starting tomorrow," Peeta said. "He thinks it'll be therapeutic."

"What do you think?" I asked. Two more moves.

"You're starting to sound like Aurelius, Haymitch. Never giving an opinion, just asking me what I think or how I feel about something," he said with a slight smile.

"I've been compared to worse," I said. Queen to a5. I was closing in on his king.

He chuckled quietly. "I think it will be good. At least it will give me a chance to get out of my room. And I can help in the kitchen, so that's something. Besides, it will give me something to concentrate on, since Aurelius is about to be busy with the trial."

"Maybe not." _Shit. Shit shit shit._ He looked up and saw the wince on my face before I could twist my features back into an impassive mask.

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking straight at me now. "Isn't he the star witness in your defense?"

I stared at the board, hoping that the floor would open up and eat me before I had to explain my slip to Peeta.

"Haymitch?" he asked again.

"Well, I met with the tribunal and prosecution representative today. We're working something out, so the trial might be postponed." As soon as I finished speaking, I knew he wanted more details.

"Working out what, Haymitch?" His tone grew stronger. He felt he deserved to know. He was right.

I relented, scrubbing my face with both hands to compose myself. "I told them about Coin - about how Prim's death was her fault. The bombs, the children, everything. I showed them my evidence, and demanded that the charges against Katniss be dropped. I told them I'd let the whole world know about Coin if they didn't let Katniss go." I kept my eyes on the board, pretending that the game was more interesting. I didn't see the anger flash across his face, or how his pupils dilated. I didn't see anything until his hand flew in front of my field of vision, throwing the chess board against the wall in one swipe.

"ARE YOU INSANE?" he screamed. He had my full attention. He was standing in front of me, breathing heavy and rage rolling off of him in waves.

My hands flew up in defense. "Peeta, calm down. I had proof - I played interviews for them from those who knew. Paylor told Livilla and I to come up with a solution, so we're meeting later tonight to come up with a solution. I'm going to make sure Katniss gets out of this."

He took a deep breath and his hands flew to his head, grabbing handfuls of his hair. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? What if they tried to silence you? Or her? They could be torturing her right now because she knows about Coin! YOU PROMISED ME YOU WERE GOING TO SAVE HER, HAYMITCH!" His voice was shaking, his arms were trembling.

"No, no," I said, trying to calm him down. "She's fine. I saw the video feed before I came over. She's sleeping now."

His arms stiffened even more, and I could see every fiber of muscle in his forearms shake as he tensed. He was seconds away from pulling his hair out by the fistful. "You don't know what they are capable of here, Haymitch. They have rooms and tools and people just to torture prisoners and get information out. They'll kill her. They'll kill her right in front of me. They think I know about District Thirteen and the rebellion! I don't want them to touch me again, Haymitch! Don't let them touch me!" He backed into the corner, tears streaming down his face.

I stood up, trying to walk toward him to calm him down. "Kid, I won't -"

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" he screamed. "Don't touch me again! I don't know anything! Why won't you believe me?" Every time I tried to walk closer, he flinched and screamed. So I did the only thing I could do for him - stepping back and pressing the emergency call button.

Seconds later, a team of nurses rushed in. Most of them went to him, to sooth and restrain him. Another slipped in behind them with the hypodermic needle, catching his bicep and injecting him with the sedative before he could throw them off. It only took a heartbeat or two for the drugs to take effect, and they dragged his limp body to the bed. I helped them get him on the mattress, and put his wrists and ankles in the soft restraints.

"What happened?" a nurse asked.

"I slipped and told him about something for the trial. He flipped out. He thought they were going to torture Katniss, then he thought he was going to be tortured. I think he had some kind of flashback to when he was a prisoner in the Capitol," I said, full of shame.

She sighed. "That's too bad. He had been doing so well, keeping the flashbacks and bad memories away. Dr. Aurelius was working with him on coping techniques for when he's overcome with a memory. This one probably came on too quickly for him to handle it."

I nodded. "It's my fault. I didn't even realize what I said would trigger him, but..."

She held up her hand to stop me. "You didn't know, and you didn't do it on purpose. Peeta doesn't even know when it's going to happen, and Dr. Aurelius is still identifying all of his triggers. Don't beat yourself up about this."

Too late.

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_My beta is on tumblr as alonglineofbread, and I'm on tumblr as fnurfnur. Today's my birthday, and my birthday wish is to hear from you - what did you think about this chapter?_


	8. Chapter 7

_I don't own or hold any rights to The Hunger Games or any of its characters - I just like to play fast and loose with canon, like I do in this chapter. Huge thanks to my beautiful brilliant beta, wollaston. Enjoy!_

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"Haymitch, can I pour you a drink?" Livilla asked as she pulled out a bottle and two glasses from a cabinet in her office.

"Only if you have one too, Lieutenant." After meeting with Peeta and sending him into a fit, I could definitely use a drink. Several, in fact. But I wasn't about to let Livilla claim I was under the influence when we negotiated. Not unless she was right there with me.

She barked out a laugh. "Trust me, I'm definitely having one. Or ten." She poured a finger of bourbon in each glass and set mine in front of me before taking a long swig of her own.

"You all right there, Lieutenant?" I asked. Livilla had always seemed like a real smart cookie who went by the books and followed the rules. Seeing her stressed and chugging down booze... well, it made her seem a lot more like me.

"I've had better days, I'll admit," she said with a sigh. "Today, I found out that my childhood role model, who was also my boss and the president of our country for a brief period, was not at all who I thought she was. I thought she wanted what was best for our country and its citizens, and sent us to war to gain freedom for us all. It turns out that all she wanted was power for herself. Even if it meant killing a bunch of kids. I thought she wanted to lead and inspire us all to be greater." She looked at me before draining her glass. "I thought we were the good guys."

"Me too," I mumbled. "I don't think I believe in the concept of 'good guys' anymore."

I hadn't even thought about the effect Plutarch's admission would have on Livilla. In Thirteen, she had followed Coin around like an obedient dog waiting for a pat on the head. She had practically idolized Coin all of her life, and now she had found out who her idol really was. A morally bankrupt, power-hungry, murdering tyrant. I just wish we had seen it earlier. I wish I had. In retrospect, I had seen it earlier, just to a lesser degree. If I had fought her on more, would the outcome had been the same? If I had taken a stand and not become jaded to the idea of soldiers dying in battle and necessary sacrifices for war, would we still have won? Would she still be alive?

"Have another drink. It'll help," I said, and shut up my annoying conscience by taking a long pull from my glass. She laughed a little and poured another for herself.

"Don't think you can get me drunk enough to agree to drop all charges against Katniss," she said, pointing her finger at me. "I'm just gonna get drunk enough to try to forget about the person she killed, not that fact that she killed someone."

"Nobody had a problem when she paraded was out there to kill a different murdering, overbearing tyrant," I said, leaning back in my chair.

Livilla leaned back in her chair and leveled me with a look. "That was different and you know it. Snow was tried and convicted, and sentenced to death. Katniss had asked Coin to be the one to kill Snow. She was chosen to carry out his execution."

I shrugged. "So, she got a head start on what Coin's sentence would have been. She was just being proactive." I drained the rest of my glass and set it down. I was goading her - I guess I just wanted to see what her limits were.

"Stop being an ass, Haymitch. I want to work something out with you, but you've got to give me something. If Katniss walks away with no charges, no punishment, and no explanation to the country as to why, I'll be a joke. I'll look like an ineffective prosecution representative who couldn't do her job. That looks bad for my career, and since I don't have Coin's bandwagon to ride anymore, I need to make sure I come out of this with something for my future."

I shook my head a bit and looked at her, confused. "Are you seriously asking for a bribe?"

Her face twisted in disgust. "No, not that. I mean I don't want all my hard work preparing for this case to go down the drain. I want to have a career in government - I want to help build the new Panem. But there's no future for me if I can't even make a case against someone who committed a crime in broad daylight, in front of the entire country."

"Paylor knows the truth, she'd take care of you," I pointed out while Livilla refilled my glass.

She rolled her eyes quickly and huffed. "Paylor's got better things to do than to get me a job. Besides, presidents change. I want to be able to make a career based on my own merits, not because the president remembers that I worked hard and didn't fight back, or because I kept this secret about Coin so Katniss could walk."

I picked up my glass and took a slow, careful sip as I thought about the problem. Livilla had worked hard to prepare for a case, and she wanted it known that she was a smart, competent representative and a good choice to stay in service to the government moving forward. I wanted Katniss's freedom, and now that the tribunal and Paylor knew the truth about Coin, I didn't care about the rest.

What I had told Plutarch earlier was true - I didn't want to play that tape for the entire country. I didn't want to destroy Panem. I just wanted to go home and be left alone, like before. That was easier to do before I cared about my tributes. Now, the only way I would be able go home and relax is if I knew both of them were safe.

"What was your defense gonna be?" Livilla asked. "Insanity?"

I shrugged. "That's what everyone advised. People said it was the best chance she had of freedom."

Livilla nodded. "I figured. There was no way I could attack her character - not when she was and still is a national hero. So I planned to do what I could to simplify the case by reminding everyone that they all witnessed the crime, and show that she was of sound mind that morning and intended to raise that bow and kill Coin."

I smiled a little - couldn't help it. "I had a shit load of evidence that Katniss was traumatized beyond belief and had gone insane."

She smiled back. "And I had evidence that she was sane enough to be prepped and dressed that morning, engage in conversation with Lieutenant Hawthorne, and participate in a Victor's meeting with Coin and cast a vote. That meeting was only minutes before the shooting. I just had to make the tribunal believe she was thinking clearly during the shooting - not during the Games or in Thirteen, or after."

I raised my glass to her. "I would have had fun arguing that case with you, Lieutenant."

She raised hers in return. "Likewise." We each took a sip, and an idea came into my head and flew out of my mouth before I could stop it.

"What if we could still do it?" I asked, pouring myself another drink.

She grabbed the bottle from my hand. "You've had enough."

I snorted out a laugh. "No, no, hear me out. You - and probably the entire nation - want a trial. I just want Katniss out. What if we worked out a deal where we go forth with the trial, but guarantee the tribunal's decision ahead of time?" _Where the hell did that idea come from? What was in this booze? I liked it._

She just stared at me, probably trying to determine if the girl's state of mind had rubbed off on me. Maybe crazy was contagious. "I'm listening."

I put my half-empty glass down on her desk and sat upright. If I was going to work this idea through, I wanted her to see that I was serious and sober. Sober enough, anyway. "Paylor asked us to come up with a compromise that allows justice to be done but didn't take away Katniss's rights or tear down the government," I said. Livilla nodded, still following my train of thought. "So we have a trial - the one we prepared for, arguing over her sanity. But the tribunal must agree ahead of time that they will find Katniss not guilty by reason of insanity."

She shifted in her seat and put her own glass down. "Then why bother with the trial?"

"Because it still gives you an opportunity to showcase your abilities as a prosecution representative. It still means that Katniss must publicly face the charges of murder. And Panem still gets the trial they want," I reasoned.

"You mean _Plutarch_ gets the trial he wants," she said.

I shook my head. "No, he gets the ratings he wants. I'm pretty sure he could not care less about the actual trial," I said, correcting her. It was true. If a live feed of Caesar Flickerman touching up his roots could get ratings, Plutarch would probably be fine airing that instead. Hell, he'd probably prefer it."

Livilla stared at me for a minute before holding her hands up. "Okay... okay, hold on here. Are you really serious about this? Why would the tribunal agree to this? Won't they think this is making a mockery of the justice system?"

I laughed. "We don't have a justice system yet - hell, we _just_ got a president," I said. "Besides, think of it this way. By finding Katniss not guilty by reason of insanity, it's a way for them to pardon her without letting her go scot-free."

"But what would happen to Katniss after the trial?" she asked.

I shrugged and shook my head. "She goes home to District Twelve. Or, wherever she wants."

"No," she said. "If she's found to be insane, she's got to be put _somewhere_. You don't want the public thinking there's an insane assassin roaming around wherever she wants. Besides, have you looked at her lately in custody? I don't know if she's exactly capable of taking care of herself."

"All right," I said. She looked at me expectantly while I worried the edge of her desk with my finger, trying to come up with a solution. "How about this - she goes home to District Twelve, in my custody. I'm her mentor, I'm already experienced in keeping an eye on her. She'll go back and live in her home in Victor's Village, and spend the rest of her life away from the public eye."

She studied the walls of her office, turning the idea over in her head. "So we'd just do the trial without your evidence against Coin?"

"Absolutely. I stick to evidence about Katniss's trauma and mental state. You stick to the case you were going to present. We act out our parts in the courtroom, and the tribunal deliberates, then gives the verdict we've agreed on," I said.

She picked up her glass and began rolling it slowly back and forth between her hands. "How the hell are you going to get Paylor to agree to this? She wants fairness and transparency in government. This is all just a big show."

"Paylor knows the importance of pleasing the people she leads. If this keeps the country from tearing itself apart while compromising fairly with all parties, then why wouldn't she agree to this?" I asked. I picked up my own glass and thought for a moment before raising it to my lips. "Frankly, I think this is a perfect solution."

"I'm not disagreeing with you, Haymitch," she said. She met my eyes again, having studied every inch of her office while making her decision. "I have to say, I underestimated you."

The bourbon stung my sinuses as I laughed. "I doubt that."

She shook her head, a slight smile on her lips. "No, I thought you were just a drunk who got pulled into the war to get revenge against Snow. I figured you'd be more concerned with going home to Twelve to drink yourself into a coma than with saving Katniss."

"Who says I'm not?" I asked. "We pull this off, I get to go home on the first hovercraft out of here. Just so happens that Katniss will be on it, too."

She pointed at me. "Don't do that. Don't pretend you don't care about her. Or Peeta, for that matter. I know you visit him at least once a day."

I shrugged, pretending to be indifferent. But I must have been doing a bad job of it if Livilla could see through me so easily. It had always been so easy to hide my feelings away, or at least drink them down into oblivion. Maybe actually having winning tribute who needed help outside of the arena changed it. Or, all the shit from the war took away my ability to wear that mask of indifference. It was probably because I wasn't getting drunk as often. Yeah, that had to be it.

"You may not want anyone to know that you care about those kids, but I know the truth," she said. "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me."

We spent the rest of the night hammering out our pitch to the tribunal and finishing off her bottle of bourbon. Somewhere around 3 a.m., we called it a night and agreed that for this to work, we would have to trust each other. She would trust that I wouldn't release the Coin evidence, and I would trust that she wouldn't switch her argument during the trial. At this point, everyone had to agree to stick to the same script.

The next morning, Livilla and I had a stop to make before the noon meeting at Paylor's office. There was one person we needed to agree to this, even before Paylor and the tribunal heard the idea. The problem was, he was still pretty upset with me.

Livilla and I had arrived at his office without an appointment, and let ourselves in. He had been on the phone, cradling it in the nook of his neck with one hand and pulling his hair out with the other. As soon as he looked up at us, he cut his phone call short and glared at us.

"I'm quite busy looking for alternative programming solutions for the next several days. Unless you're here to tell me that it's not necessary and the trial will go on, I really don't have time to chat," Plutarch snapped.

I sat myself down in the chair opposite his desk, and kicked the other chair out for Livilla to seat herself. "I guess you have time to chat, then."

His eyes bounced back and forth between me and Livilla. "What's going on? Where's the punchline?"

Livilla eased herself in the other chair and sat back. "No punchline. Haymitch and I came up with a solution last night. We think you'll like it, and we think you'll want the tribunal to like it, too."

He rolled his eyes. "Please, just tell me. I don't think my heart can take any more surprises or trickery."

"Stop being so dramatic, Plutarch. We want to go ahead and have the trial. In fact, we're both still ready to start tomorrow," I said.

His fingers clenched into fists until the knuckles turned white. "Haymitch, those recordings can not be made public - "

"Stop, stop," I said, putting my hand in the air to shut him up. "We're going to have the trial everyone thought we would. It'll be an argument over Katniss's sanity, or lack thereof, when she executed Coin. I'll use my evidence of her years of trauma and the evaluation from Aurelius, and Livilla will use her arguments and evidence that Katniss knew what she was doing when the arrow flew. The evidence of Coin's real nature - and your involvement in it - won't be made public."

He looked at Livilla. "What's the catch?"

"The catch is that the tribunal will agree to find Katniss not guilty by reason of insanity," she said. "The trial will merely be to showcase the arguments for the public, and make it seem as if the tribunal is truly basing the verdict on the evidence of her sanity alone. This way, you still get a trial, I still get to make my case, the tribunal still gets to let Katniss go without the public outcry of a full pardon, and Haymitch gets Katniss's freedom."

He looked back and forth between us. "You're not serious."

"Why wouldn't we be serious?" I asked. "This seems to be a solution that benefits everyone."

"It's too easy, Haymitch," he said. "It's like you're making a mockery of the fair and transparent government process that Paylor has envisioned. Sure, the people of Panem would think they were witnessing the truth. But it would be a lie."

"It's not a lie," I said. "If not for the evidence against Coin, this is exactly how the trial would proceed. Livilla and I are going to make the same arguments and present the same evidence we had 24 hours ago. But since no one wants the truth about Coin to get out, we make sure that the end result is one that we have all agreed on."

"But that's the thing," he said. "That's what Paylor won't want. She won't want to fix the results ahead of time."

"She will if she knows this is the best thing for the country," I said. "The people want justice for their fallen president. But they also want justice for their Mockingjay. The problem is, the truth would tear them apart. This is for the country's own good, Plutarch."

"And that's something for you to decide?" he asked.

"No, it's something for Paylor to decide. That's why they elected her," Livilla replied.

He sat for a moment, thinking to himself before pointing fingers at both of us. "You'd both have to agree to stick by a script. There's no room for errors or surprises in this."

I placed a hand on my chest, pretending to be shocked. "You don't trust me, Plutarch?"

"Fuck you," he shot back.

"See?" I asked Livilla. "Told you he'd love the idea."

An hour later, we gathered in Paylor's office. She asked us if we had come to an agreement, and we outlined the idea together. Livilla and I (and now Plutarch) had discovered we actually made a good team - each complementing the other's points by adding on another layer of persuasion. We had tried to come up with every possible point of contention or discord the tribunal would have with the "mock trial", as we now called it. We stressed the importance of allowing the people to have confidence in their government by showing that their new president and officials in the tribunal were in charge, and competent enough to preside over this trial and handle the needs of a changing nation. We emphasized the end result - that the Mockingjay, who was still a national hero, according to yesterday's polls from Plutarch's team, would not be executed or trapped in jail but would still be punished and have to answer for her crime. She would go to District Twelve and never bother anyone again, and neither would I. I think that was Plutarch's favorite part.

When we finished, Paylor and the tribunal remained silent. They took a moment to glance at each other, but their faces revealed nothing. The longer they stayed silent, the more nervous I became. I started to convince myself that this was the stupidest idea in the history of Panem, and that was really saying something. I could hear Peeta's voice in my head, screaming at me.

_"Why didn't you protect her, Haymitch? You promised!"_

"Let's take a vote," Paylor finally said, turning to the tribunal. "All those in favor of the proposed solution?"

"Aye," said four voices.

"All those opposed?"

Silence.

"And my vote is also in favor. If counsel is ready for both sides, we can start the trial tomorrow as planned."

By then, my self-doubt was at a raging high. I wanted to scream and tell her that this was a terrible idea, that we'd never pull it off. "President Paylor? You're sure?" I stammered.

"I am. You're right, this is an excellent compromise. And I've been serving this country for too many years to think that a completely transparent government is what's best for everyone. This solution is creative, and while it isn't entirely truthful, it's not corrupt. As long as we work for what's in the best interest of the people, that's fine by me."

My stomach finally started to make its way north, away from my feet. Air began filling my lungs again, and I finally began to comprehend that _this idea was going to work._

"But Plutarch," Paylor added. "Make sure this trial airs on at least a ten-second delay. If there are any surprises, or anything strays from what we have discussed here, the trial gets pulled off the air immediately and the tribunal will deal with the interruption."

The rest of the meeting was spent agreeing on the specifics. The trial would last for one full day of arguments - first the prosecution, then the defense. At the end of the day, the arguments would be done and the tribunal would excuse themselves to make a decision. At 9 a.m. the next morning, we would reconvene and the tribunal would render their verdict of not guilty by reason of insanity.

Once the details were worked out, all we could do was promise to play our part, and trust that everyone else would play their part as well. We agreed to keep this secret between those in Paylor's office. But I already knew there was at least one person I'd be willing to tell, as long as it didn't send him into a fit again.

Before visiting Peeta that evening, I had to see Dr. Aurelius. Peeta's flashback yesterday haunted me, especially since I was the one who triggered it. Part of me wanted to leave the boy alone and stop inflicting pain on him like I had done to so many people in my life. Part of me wanted to run in and see him, and make sure he knew he wasn't alone. But I didn't trust my instincts around him anymore. Not since yesterday. Not since he came back from the Capitol as a broken kid.

"You can visit him," Aurelius assured me. He's having a much better day. He's even aware of yesterday's flashbacks, and the triggers that set him off. If he's aware of them, he can work on coping with them if they happen again."

"The trial starts tomorrow. What should I tell him if he asks about it?" I asked.

"Be honest with him. If you lie to him, he's going to be hurt like anyone would be. If the truth sets him off, it's better that he do it here in a controlled environment where we can sedate him if needed and work on it with therapy. Just tell him as much as you would tell him before the hijacking," he said.

Oh, the irony. If Katniss were here, she'd have to laugh, too. "But Doc," I said, "we never told him anything. We tried to protect him."

"How did that work out for you?" he asked.

Damn head shrinks.

As usual, Peeta had the chess board set up for us. He looked up from his sketchbook when I walked in. "Didn't know if you were coming in today. I thought maybe I'd scared you off," he said, closing the sketchbook.

"Thought, or hoped?" I replied. He laughed. "Takes more than that to scare me off, kid. Besides, you're the only one around here who can play worth a shit."

We sat around the board. Before he made his opening move, he had to ask. "What's the latest news? Who are you blackmailing today?"

I looked up from the board to him just so I could give him a dirty look. "That's pretty harsh. And no one, today at least."

"Will there be a trial?" he asked.

"There will. With a pre-determined outcome. If I agree to keep the evidence of Coin under wraps and only make the argument towards Katniss's mental state, Lieutenant Livilla will only argue her case against the mental state evidence, and the tribunal will agree to find Katniss not guilty by reason of insanity," I said, turning back to the board but bracing myself for his reaction.

He made an opening move - pawn to e4. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard of in my life."

That was a reaction I wasn't expecting. Anger, yes. Disgust, maybe. Gratitude? I could hope.

"Well, it was the only solution we could come up with that had something for everyone - the people get a trial and get to see Katniss answer for her crime. Lieutenant Livilla gets to make her case and hopefully earn a good reputation and some respect among her peers as something other than 'Coin's lapdog'. Paylor gets to show that Panem is being lead by competent leadership who want to uphold the rights of citizens, and she gets to pardon Katniss without a public outcry. And Katniss gets to go home to Twelve," I said. "Everybody gets something."

"What do you get?" he asked.

"I get to go home, kid." I said. I make my move - pawn to e5.

He smiles sadly. "Must be nice."

I shook my head at him. "You'll get better. One day, you won't have to stay here. You'll be well enough to go back to Twelve, or wherever you want."

He took a deep breath and sighed. "I can't keep waiting for a day that may or may not come," he said so matter-of-factly. Did he not believe he would get better? Why couldn't he see how much better he already was?

"Besides," he added, "I don't trust the government to let me go free. Not when I'm less than a mile from where I was tortured. Not when we have a president promising a 'fair and transparent government' one moment and presiding over a fake trial the next."

"If there was another way, we would do it, kid," I said.

"Maybe it doesn't matter who is in charge. Maybe politics is just about using pretty lies to cover an ugly truth," he said.

I look up at him. "When did you get so cynical?"

He barked out a laugh. "I've always been cynical, Haymitch. I got it from my mother. Never thought I'd have a chance with the girl of my dreams. Never thought I'd beat my brother in wrestling. Never thought I'd survive the Arena. Never thought I'd be worth a shit as a Victor. Never thought I'd come out of the Arena a second time."

"But you did," I reminded him.

"Lucky me," he said.

I reached out and grabbed his shoulder, wishing I could put all of the hope and good intentions the world has for him into one little awkward squeeze. "You... you give other people hope, Peeta."

He shrugged. "I'd like some for myself."

* * *

_I'm on tumblr as fnurfnur and my beta is on tumblr as alonglineofbread. I update this story every Monday and Thursday - and only two weeks left until this story is wrapped up!_


	9. Chapter 8

_I don't own or hold any rights to The Hunger Games or its characters. Thanks to wollaston for being a great beta. Here it is - the trial!_

* * *

The cameraman checked his focus one last time and spoke loudly to get the attention of the man and woman in front of him. It was time.

"We're going live to Panem in five... four... three... _two... one._.." he said, mouthing the last two words and watching the red light of the camera turn on - it was showtime in the Capitol studio.

The man's smile lit up the screen, as always. "Good evening, Panem and welcome to our recap coverage of the Mockingjay trial! I'm Caesar Flickerman and joining me is my lovely co-host, Fulvia Cardew. I must say, it's been an emotional whirlwind of a day, Fulvia! Both the prosecution and defense were able to make their cases completely _and_ deliver their closing arguments today, with testimony from a total of 8 witnesses. I don't know about you, but I expected a longer trial, so this was a surprise!"

Caesar's wig was a dark chocolate brown, a slight nod to the deep brown of Katniss's own hair, or what was left of it. The makeup on his face was minimal and much more natural looking than anything he had worn on camera before. His suit was velvet, but without the sparkles and lights of the suits he had worn to interview tributes. After a lifetime of hiding under a layer of shellac and glitter, he wasn't ready to completely abandon the costume and reveal the old, tired man underneath. But he was trying.

"It sure was, Caesar!" Fulvia said. "Testimony and closing arguments in the Mockingjay trial are complete, and the tribunal has adjourned for the evening to begin deliberations and determine the fate of Katniss Everdeen. The question they must answer in deliberation is this: was Katniss Everdeen in control of her mental state at the time of the assassination? We could find out their decision as early as tomorrow morning!"

Fulvia dreamed of being an on-air personality ever since she was a little girl growing up in the Capitol. She knew that working for Plutarch would have its benefits and possibly provide an opportunity to prove herself into the industry. When he had suggested she work with Caesar Flickerman - the Caesar Flickerman! - to provide a "District Thirteen perspective" during the coverage of Snow's assassination, she was elated. When Coin was shot, her ability to remain calm and think quickly on her feet to continue commentary that day led to a recurring gig with Caesar as they covered national news and updates leading to the Mockingjay trial. They made a good team.

Caesar smiled at her and turned back to the camera. "Yes, we could. Both sides worked hard and presented a very compelling case for their arguments. For those of you who were unable to watch the full trial today, let's recap: the prosecution went first with a bang, as Lieutenant Livilla replayed video footage of the assassination and handed out transcripts of our own media coverage for the tribunal to follow along. She pointed out the distinct correction Katniss made at the last second with her aim before releasing her arrow into Coin's direction. Then, she showed the severity of the correction - over 30 degrees up between Snow on the terrace and Coin on the balcony."

In a dark room just outside of the studio, producers pressed buttons and shift levers, allowing footage from the trial to air silently as Caesar and Fulvia talked over the testimony. The audience saw Livilla, standing tall and resplendent in her military uniform, pointing on the video screen of how a 30 degree correction could not be just an "accident".

Fulvia picked up the next line on the teleprompter. "Lieutenant Livilla continued with testimony and evidence of Katniss's state of mind on the day of the execution. Lieutenant Gale Hawthorne was sequestered to the stand, and did not seem too pleased to be there."

"You can't blame him, being asked to testify against his cousin and fellow soldier," Caesar noted.

Another set of buttons were pressed, and Lieutenant Hawthorne's stoic face filled the screen, jaw tensed and a hard stare complemented by his gray uniform. He looked every bit the part of a hard-boiled, respected military man. His answers to Livilla were short and to the point.

"That's true," Fulvia said, her camera-ready smile softening to a more serious look. "He testified to the tribunal that he met with Katniss for a few minutes on the morning of the assassination to give her the bow and single arrow allotted to her in order to execute Snow. When asked about her state of mind, Lieutenant Hawthorne memorably told the court, 'I don't know if she was crazy or not, so don't bother asking.' Lieutenant Livilla pushed on to ask what their conversation was about, and he said they briefly discussed the death of her sister, Primrose Everdeen."

"Since that had happened less than two weeks earlier, it's understandable that would be on their minds," Caesar said. "Remember, Gale was Prim Everdeen's cousin, as well."

"Yes," Fulvia agreed, "and it seems the loss affected him greatly. Lieutenant Hawthorne seemed to be fighting tears by the end of Lieutenant Livilla's questioning, and Mr. Abernathy noted his emotional state during his cross-examination. He asked Lieutenant Hawthorne to tell the court about the Katniss Everdeen he knew - the one he grew up with as they struggled to survive once their fathers had died in a tragic mining accident."

"I think this testimony was a surprise for many people - I know it was for me, at least," Caesar said. "We all knew life was hard for Katniss in District Twelve, and by now everyone knows the story of Peeta saving a starving Katniss with a gift of bread. But the extent of her trauma, even before she volunteered for the Games, was staggering to me. Extreme poverty, starvation, the death of her father and illness of her mother... my goodness, it was absolutely harrowing!"

Fulvia nodded, thinking of how shocked she was when she first saw the bone-thin refuges from District Twelve arrive in Thirteen. "It's the sort of thing that reminds you why we fought this war. People in the districts were starving and suffering." She turned to Caesar, and cocked her head. "That's why we fought and sacrificed so much - from our soldiers to our civilians, to our leaders and those who fought in secret from the inside of the Capitol, providing valuable intel at the risk of their own lives."

Caesar blushed slightly at Fulvia's indirect nod to his work during the war, then continued with the script. "Lieutenant Hawthorne expanded on her personality changes that took effect after her first and second games."

The producer pressed another button, and an excerpt of Gale's testimony is on the screen, with audio.

_"Catnip - I mean, Katniss - seemed scared all the time. She said that President Snow threatened to have me killed, and how he wanted her to somehow stop the uprisings already happening in Eleven and Eight, and stop any more from happening. She was terrified - she wanted to run and protect the people the people she, um. Loved."_

The camera turned back to Caesar's face. "Riveting testimony, indeed. Later, he told of Katniss's state of mind after her rescue from the Quarter Quell and her time in Thirteen."

_"She wanted to be left alone - she couldn't handle being around others, so she found hiding places. I think the doctor called it 'mentally disoriented'. There were a lot of storage closets, boiler rooms, places like that - she would find one and sit there in the dark for hours. After she agreed to be the Mockingjay, she didn't do it as much only because the propos kept her busy. But she still looked sad all the time - like she was empty. She would look at you, but there would be nothing there behind her eyes."_

The camera stayed on Gale, but the Haymitch's voice could be heard asking him to continue. _"How did that change after Peeta returned?"_

_"It got worse. Snow messed him up, and changed him completely. He wasn't the same person she knew, and he treated her so badly at first. She was upset enough when she didn't know if Peeta was safe. But when he came back to her as a completely different person, it wrecked her. She couldn't handle it."_

It was only in the weeks after the rebel victory in the Capitol that the nation began to learn anything about the torture Peeta Mellark had suffered under Snow's watch after the Quarter Quell. So-called 'experts' from Thirteen and the Capitol went on television to discuss how a technique known as "hijacking" was used to alter his perceptions and memories, including those he had of his "fiancé/wife", Katniss Everdeen.

The producers made a few adjustments, and the camera was back on in front of Caesar and Fulvia, who commented on the footage. "We do not know the details of what his reaction to Katniss was when he was rescued and taken to Thirteen, but it's safe to assume that it was not the sort of reunion one might expect from our star-crossed lovers."

Actually, she knew many details of their reunion and had repeatedly seen the video footage from hospital surveillance cameras. However, she and Plutarch agreed that the attempted strangling was a detail that did not need to be made public. Plutarch didn't want Peeta to be seen as a monster - the former Gamemaker still carried guilt that they could not rescue the boy from the Quarter Quell.

Caesar turned slightly to the left towards camera two, so that his face could be seen from its good side as he shared the screen with more trial footage. "Following Lieutenant Hawthorne's testimony, Lieutenant Livilla called Enobaria to the stand. As one of only seven surviving Victors, Enobaria was in a closed-door meeting with the other Victors and President Coin only moments before Snow's assassination was scheduled. Enobaria testified that Katniss was present during the meeting and engaged in their conversation, eventually placing a vote in the meeting on an unknown topic."

He paused before adding something that wasn't on the teleprompter - after so many years of interviewing tributes who were scared into silence, he was a master of improvisation. "I have to admit I was surprised that neither Livilla or Haymitch asked about the purpose of that closed-door meeting. It makes you wonder what happened in that meeting, and if it could have done something to affect the Mockingjay's mental state. If it had, it certainly would have been brought up by the defense as an argument for her insanity. If it hadn't, the prosecution should have brought it up as further proof of her sound mental state."

Fulvia raised her eyebrows, but otherwise made no indication that this topic was unexpected. "That's an excellent point, Caesar. Our producers have made numerous requests to the government to disclose the topic of that meeting, but we have been denied every time for reasons of national security. It's likely this is a mystery that we may never solve."

Caesar returned to the script. "The defense declined cross examination of Enobaria, and the next witness for the prosecution was Soldier York. His job in Thirteen was training soldiers for combat, including Katniss Everdeen. He testified to her skill with a bow and arrow."

Soldier York was in his late 30's, and had made a career of teaching kids in Thirteen how to kill with deadly force. He had been nervous to be on camera during the trial, but Livilla had made jokes with him about the food in Thirteen to loosen him up before asking him if Katniss had shown any proficiency with the bow and arrow.

_"Yes ma'am. She had to be one of the best i've ever seen. Her aim with a gun was pretty good, but her aim with a bow and arrow was as close to perfect as humanly possible."_

The footage showed Livilla standing behind a podium, reviewing her notes as she questioned York._ "During her final test on the Block, what challenge did she have to overcome?"_

_"Ma'am, It was the opinion of the higher ranking officers that Ms. Everdeen had a problem following orders. In the Block, Ms. Everdeen was put in a situation where her orders were to get down and lay low, despite an obvious target in front of her. She passed the test."_

Livilla had looked up from her notes, bringing attention to what he said. _"But she had issues with following orders in the past?"_

_"Yes ma'am, that's what I had heard. But I did not witness it, personally. She was an exemplary student and worked harder than anyone other than Johanna Mason to be seen as fit for duty. "_

Fulvia resumed her spot on the teleprompter. "The defense again declined to cross examine the witness and the prosecution called their final witness, Cressida."

Caesar held his fist to his mouth, in his standard 'deep thoughts' pose. "Cressida actually proved to be a very effective witness for the defense as well as the prosecution, I believe. For the prosecution, she detailed the clear head and quick thinking Katniss demonstrated during their time under fire in the Capitol after Lieutenant Boggs was killed. She also described the survival instincts shown by Katniss in killing a Capitol citizen after escaping numerous death traps and losing almost their entire squad in the sewers underground."

Fulvia nodded in agreement before offering the counterpoint. "But it was Cressida's account of that time in the sewers that seemed to pack the emotional punch. I must say, Caesar - here in the studio, there wasn't a dry eye in the house as Cressida tearfully recounted that night - exhausted, hungry and scared, running from unseen terrors in the sewers only to be confronted by nightmarish pods and mutations that killed nearly their entire squad, including beloved Victor, Finnick Odair."

"Just hearing about it was enough to traumatize me," Caesar said, clutching his chest. "But remember that Lieutenant Livilla brought it up again in her closing argument - then even after that horrible trauma in the sewers, Katniss was still in control of her mental facilities, and coherent enough to lead them out of the sewers, kill an innocent citizen and use her home as temporary shelter for the squad."

Lieutenant Livilla's closing argument had been pretty spectacular. It acknowledged and sympathized with the years of trauma Katniss had suffered under the hands of Snow, from her childhood in District Twelve starving in safety to the horrors of not one but two Arenas. As Livilla outlined Katniss's time in District Thirteen training for the war and her battles in Eight, Two and the Capitol, she noted that after every battle, Katniss did not break down from the trauma. In fact, after the bombing in Eight and the destruction of the Nut in Two, she made impassioned speeches for the Rebel cause. The series of events starting with Boggs's death and ending with their escape into Tigris's basement was where her argument had really gathered steam.

_"She had just suffered a terrible trauma - one that would send anyone into shock. But she didn't go into shock - she did what she needed to do in order to survive and save the remainder of her squad. She didn't shut down and check out - her sanity was intact after that trauma."_

"The defense called three witnesses to testify on the Mockingjay's behalf," Fulvia continued. "First up was Delly Cartwright, a classmate of Katniss's from District Twelve and fellow refugee in Thirteen. Delly was just an absolute treat, I must say."

Caesar unleashed a megawatt smile. "Wasn't she absolutely charming? Such a lovely girl, she seemed to smile even when discussing the saddest details of life in District Twelve. Delly testified of their time in school back in District Twelve, and how after the mine collapse and Mr. Everdeen's death, Katniss seemed to change. Instead of the friendly, outgoing tomboy Delly admired, Katniss began pushing her friends away, by preferring solitude or only the company of her sister or cousin. The bond with her little sister was incredibly strong, especially after Mr. Everdeen's death.

Delly's soft blonde curls bounced on the screen, capturing the audience's eye on the camera.

_"Katniss loved Prim so much - I mean, everybody loved Prim, but you could see in Katniss's eyes that she just thought the world of her sister. I mean, she walked her to and from school every day, even after Katniss became a victor and stopped going to classes. We'd still see her out there every day, waiting for Prim after classes got out so they could walk to their fancy new home together."_

Caesar smiled again at the thought of Delly's smiling face, and continued. "Lieutenant Livilla declined to cross examine Delly, and Katniss's mother was called to the stand next. Lily Everdeen has mostly stayed out of the spotlight in the past two years, despite her famous daughters. Other than her interview when Katniss made the final eight in the 74th Games, this was the first time the country really had a chance to get to know Katniss's mother. Lily testified about her own experiences with mental illness, as well as her father's experience as well."

Lily Everdeen didn't come across as bright and bubbly like Delly did, but no one expected her to. She was pale and drawn and thin, almost translucent. When people looked at her, it wasn't really her that they saw. They saw her youngest daughter, forever remembered clutching onto her big sister's side as Katniss volunteered to die for her one hot summer day. They saw the shell of her oldest daughter, now slowly withering away in a locked room three blocks away.

_"It's called depression in medical books, but healers just call it 'the sadness'. It feels like being broken inside, and everything good - happy feelings, love, even your best memories - just seem to leak and fall out. Not really of course, but it feels like that. When my husband died, something inside me just broke. I stopped being a person and a mother, and became a ghost. The same thing happened to my mother when her parents died. Only my mother never recovered, and she hung herself a year later. If it weren't for Katniss working through her own pain and making sure we were taken care of, I would have died. We all would have."_

"Dr. Aurelius was the next witness for the defense and asked to read sections of the report he created for the tribunal regarding Katniss's mental state," Fulvia added before the footage cut from Mrs. Everdeen to Dr. Aurelius.

_"In my professional opinion, the trauma from the bombing at City Circle - both the mental anguish and loss from witnessing her sister's death as well as the physical damage and pain from the burns - was the final straw for Miss Everdeen's sanity. Everything after that moment for her was likely a haze, as she experienced nightmares and hallucinations during a drug-induced sleep. Though she was able to hold conversations up until moments before the assassination, I believe that she thought she was trapped in a nightmare that she could not escape. I believe that in her mind, shooting Coin instead of Snow was Katniss's way of trying to stop the nightmare and wake up."_

"During cross-examination," Fulvia said, her voice holding that fine balance between energetic and solemn, "Lieutenant Livilla asked Aurelius how he came about the information in the report and began quite the exchange with the doctor regarding his time with Katniss."

Lieutenant Livilla's serious expression fills the screen again. _"By all accounts, Katniss was a 'mental Avox', as you described her in your report. If she wasn't talking to you, how did you gather this information?_

If one looked closely, they could see Dr. Aurelius's jaw tense beneath his salt and pepper beard. _"From interviews with her family and friends in the Capitol, as well as observing her as she recovered. She suffered from regular nightmares ever since she was a tribute, and I witnessed her trapped in them myself."_

_"So when you visited her, you watched her sleep?"_

_"I observed her, whether she was asleep or not."_

_"You didn't go in her room as an excuse to take a nap?"_

_"Certainly not. I went in with the intent of observing and monitoring my patient. If during the course of observation I fell asleep, it was strictly due to the sheer exhaustion of serving so many patients and refugees since the end of the war."_

"No love lost between those two, Fulvia," Caesar noted. "The final witness was the new Head of Communications, Plutarch Heavensbee. He testified about the pressure he and his team were under in District Thirteen to produce propos quickly enough to meet the demand of the rebel assault in various areas. Because of this time frame, he and Haymitch - her defense representative - often pushed Katniss to do propos even when it was at the expense of her mental health."

Fulvia paused for just a second before continuing, speaking without the teleprompter and straight from the gut. "I think it had a lot of impact with the tribunal when both Plutarch and Haymitch admitted to pushing Katniss beyond her limit. I can attest to the fact that the pressure to create as many propos as possible was constant, especially as the rebel forces had claimed every District but the Capitol and Two." Caesar nodded in agreement with her, and she resumed her place in the script.

"In cross-examination, Lieutenant Livilla asked Plutarch if Katniss was still able to perform in the propos despite her mental health. Plutarch said she was but she was best when able to improvise instead of follow a script."

Haymitch had stood by Plutarch during his testimony, leaning against the witness box as if they were old friends just sharing memories. No one watching would have guessed that their entire exchange was carefully scripted.

_"The first propo we filmed with Katniss was a complete dud because it was all fake. We gave her a script, put her in a fake battlefield in a studio and tried to get a real reaction out of her. Thankfully, Haymitch, you knew that she needed to be in the field and genuinely inspired in order to be an inspiration to others."_

"Well, I just knew she couldn't act her way out of a paper bag."

_"Well, your idea to send her into the field was absolutely brilliant. Once we saw how genuine and engaging she was in Eight, and then how impassioned she became after the hospital was bombed, we decided to only film her in the field from that point forward. The problem was, being in the field meant seeing more of the war. The doctors in Thirteen advised me that she was mentally disoriented, but we kept pushing her to film more. I'd like to think that I thought we were helping her, but the truth was we didn't have time to let her heal. Our forces were advancing and gaining momentum, and we needed new propos constantly to flood the airwaves."_

_"Was there a time when her mental state was too fragile to film a propo?"_

_"There were many times, but I ordered Cressida and her crew to keep going. There was only one time when we absolutely could not move forward with filming. After Thirteen was bombed by the Capitol, we asked Katniss to go aboveground and film a quick propo to show that Thirteen survived the bombing. She broke down crying until she was hysterical. The doctor had to sedate her because she was too far gone."_

Livilla stood right by the witness box as Haymitch did when she cross-examined Plutarch in the courtroom. _"So she was best when she wasn't following orders - when she was acting of her own accord and not considering others?"_

_"That's pushing it a bit far. She has a natural gift for improvisation. But if you try and tell her how to act in front of a camera or what to say, she freezes up. Katniss was always at her best when she was thinking on her feet."_

The camera cut back to Caesar and Fulvia in the studio. "The defense's closing argument was very stirring, as an emotional Haymitch Abernathy recounted the long list of trauma Katniss had endured up until the death of her sister and the painful healing process of extensive third-degree burns."

Haymitch had delivered his closing argument pacing back and forth in front of the tribunal, using the emotion of his speech to dictate the pace of his steps. His ability to act had always served him well, but he had mostly used it to let people underestimate him. Today, he caught everyone by surprise.

_"She was prepped and dressed up like she was going into a Tribute Parade in City Circle, only this time, Snow was the one waiting for death. Between her traumatized mental state and the haze of morphling and burning pain, the entire scenario in front of her must have felt like another nightmare she couldn't escape from. This time, she wanted to find a way to force herself to wake up. Maybe she thought that if she could just wake up from this nightmare, her sister would still be alive and safe. So she changed the plan, and did the one action that was most unexpected. She drew her arrow up and let it fly towards Coin as a last ditch effort to save herself and her sister. But of course, it didn't work. The nightmare was real."_

I switched off the television in Plutarch's office before they could show anymore of my display to the tribunal. "Too much?" I asked the others.

"I don't think so," Plutarch said. "I think you have a real career ahead of you as an actor. You know, I was thinking of new ideas for dramatic serials, and a show featuring a Victor - "

Livilla started laughing. "You have as much of a chance getting Haymitch into your soap opera as you do of getting Katniss into your singing competition, Plutarch. Give it up."

I turned to her and smiled. "Maybe he could make a part for you, Lieutenant. I think you really impressed a lot of people out there. There's a future in government for you, yet."

"From your lips to Paylor's ears, Abernathy." She stood up from the edge of Plutarch's desk and stretched. "Come on, boys. Let's go get some dinner. Abernathy's buying since he's the victor."

I scoffed. "I don't have Victor money anymore."

She turned and looked at me. "I meant, in court. At least we won't be up worrying about the verdict all night.

_Speak for yourself_, I thought.

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_What did you think? Find me on tumblr as fnurfnur or leave a review to let me know what you thought of the "trial"._


	10. Chapter 9

_I don't own or hold any rights to The Hunger Games or its characters. Huge thanks to my bootylicious beta wollaston, and my pre-readers bleedtoloveher, jeeno2 and manniness. Enjoy!_

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The sign on the front says it's a restaurant, but that was what it used to be. Before the war, we all used to be something different. It was probably a real fancy restaurant, too. It's close to City Circle and everything inside looks like it cost more than all of District Twelve put together. The damn forks are enough to feed a Seam family for a year. I bet Snow used to bring people he wanted to impress, and those who wanted to impress him. Maybe he poisoned someone's food here. I can't help but wonder if any rich Capitolite asshole ever brought Finnick here on one of his "dates".

On the night after the "trial", if that's what you want to call it, the building was just a glorified mess hall - the owners died in war, and the military took over it as soon as the city was occupied. Our team took advantage of the top-of-the-line kitchen and gadgets to feed soldiers and officers, and anyone else who needs a hot meal. The food was damn good, especially for those from Thirteen who had never tasted anything before that actually had taste. That night, it was the only place the three of us could grab a bite and a drink without anyone questioning it. There, no one gave us a second glance.

"Let's have a toast", Plutarch proposed, raising his glass of single malt whiskey in the air. "To... justice."

Livilla rolled her eyes and raised her glass. "That's just terrible - we shouldn't be allowed to toast to that. To the future."

I sighed and raised my glass to meet theirs. "To peace and quiet. That's all I care about in my future."

"I'll drink to that," said a deep voice behind me. I turned in my chair and saw the Hawthorne kid walking up to our table. He was still in his dress uniform from the trial, and I realized I could not remember the last time I saw him wearing his civilian clothes. It must have been before the Quell - some time back in Twelve, when he showed us how to make snares. Or maybe I saw him in the crowd at that joke of a Reaping. That felt like a lifetime ago.

I picked up the half-empty bottle and moved it out of his reach. "Forget it, kid. You're too young to ruin your liver on this," I said, pouring the rest of us another glass.

"I don't feel young," he said as he grabbed a seat next to me, and it was true. You couldn't really call him a 'kid' anymore. He'd struggled and survived through more than most kids his age. Except, I realized, we've all struggled and survived now. Panem was now a nation of survivors, no matter where they were from - the Capitol or the districts. Maybe, I thought, the nation finally had something in common with each other.

"Besides, don't I even get a farewell drink?" he asked. That got our attention.

"Where are you going, Lieutenant?" Livilla asked.

Gale held up a thick packet of papers, and placed them on the table in front of him. "Just got a new assignment. I've been ordered to report to District 2 tomorrow morning to oversee the rebuild of their military base."

"You mean 'The Nut'?" I cried, almost choking on my drink. "They want you? Do they know you're the one who blew it up in the first damn place?"

He shrugged, then nodded. "Paylor made the orders herself. She said she wants people who are looking to put things in Panem back together. For me, that's the Nut. I can put that back together, and stronger than before," he said. I wondered if he was sent there because he couldn't put anything - or anyone - back together here.

"What about your family?" Plutarch asked.

"They're coming too. We can all make a new life in District 2. It'll be a better life for all of us," he said, looking down at the table as his thumb traced a knot on the wooden surface.

Livilla cocked her head sideways and asked, "You don't want to go back to District 12 and rebuild your life there?"

He shook his head. "There's nothing for me there. Nothing positive, anyway - just a lot of bad memories."

"There have to be some good ones," she said.

"Yeah. But not enough."

He saw District 12 explode and most of its citizens burn to death right in front of him. If it weren't for him, everyone in that district would have been a pile of ashes. He saved everyone he could, but the streets in his district were still covered with bones and ashes and death of almost everyone he had ever known. No amount of happy memories running around in the forest with that girl could make up for that.

"What about the girl?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

His jaw tensed, and he met my eyes. "What about her?" In District Twelve, you can tell if someone if from the Seam by looking in their eyes. It's not just the color - although that is part of it. It's the sadness in that gray, the way it looks like a storm cloud that brings no rain and just darkness. It's the look of someone who has come to expect the worst out of everything, because that's what life has taught them to expect.

I hesitated for a moment before answering him - I couldn't discuss the trial's impending verdict or give too much away. The decision hadn't been read yet, even if it was predetermined. "Well, what's going to happen if she's allowed to go back to Twelve? I've got a good feeling she will." A _really_ good feeling. _Call it a hunch._

"That's good," he said softly. "I hope she can. She deserves to be happy. But she has Peeta - she wants Peeta." He nodded as he spoke, more to convince himself than the rest of us.

I shouldn't have pressed further. I shouldn't have cared. If anything, I should have wanted the boy and the girl to get better and be happy together, and stop getting into trouble. Or at least, stop dragging me into it. But when I looked at this Hawthorne kid, I saw something so familiar it twisted my stomach into knots. It's that sort of loneliness that grows inside you when you're the one responsible for being alone.

"What if he never recovers?" I asked.

"Then neither will she," he said. Plutarch reached forward and shook his hand, and Livilla stood and saluted him. I shook his hand and nodded at him, and I knew I'd never see him again.

We finished our drinks - hell, we finished the bottle - and decided to call it a night. None of us were ready - or able - to go to sleep and wait for the morning to greet us. Plutarch took off towards his "Broadcast Center", which used to be the Gamemaker Center. He was furiously typing into his communicuff and mumbling something about getting started on the "verdict package" for tomorrow.

Livilla told me she was going to work on her answer for reporters after tomorrow's verdict. "I need just the right mix of disappointment in losing the case and a stoic resolve to keep fighting for justice. I need to go practice my iron jaw in the mirror."

I extended my hand to her. "You did a hell of a job today, Lieutenant. Paylor would be lucky to have you on her team."

She shook my hand and nodded, but I did not miss the blush creeping across her cheeks. "Same to you, Haymitch. On both points."

I laughed but it came out as a snort. She laughed too, and pointed her finger at me. "Don't stay out too late. You have to pack tonight. Big journey home tomorrow, and all."

I laughed again - it felt good - and waved her off before turning down the street towards the hospital.

Dr. Aurelius had assured me yesterday that Peeta would not be allowed to watch the trial. I was thankful - I couldn't bear to think what the trial would have done to him. His episode from learning about confronting the tribunal with Plutarch's fake tape was scary enough. What would his reaction have been to the trial? So much of the trauma Katniss had experienced was shared by Peeta. In a lot of ways, his share was worse.

Growing up as a Merchant didn't mean you were rich - it just meant you had a couple of extra dimes in your pocket to rub together and make ends meet. But they still went without. Especially Peeta and his brothers, with the mother he has. _Had_. The only thing he had plenty of were bruises.

Then he and the girl shared the pain of being a tribute, and then a Victor. Losing a leg, and being essentially abandoned by his friends and family. On top of that, feeling rejected and used by the only girl he ever loved. Being sent back into the Arena, determined to sacrifice himself to save her. Only instead of sacrificing himself, he got picked up by the Capitol and they beat him and scrambled his brains. Then he got taken to Thirteen and struggled with a new reality - underground, family dead, wanting to kill the girl you love. _Loved_. Maybe.

He was thrown into war before he was ready, and everyone just waited for him to break. When he did break down and attacked Katniss, he killed Mitchell by accident and begged for his death, if what Cressida told me is correct. Sure sounds like him - he'd do anything to keep others safe, even if it meant his own death. That part of him never left, even with the hijacking. Then he saves the girl he loved - _loves?_ - and berates himself for not doing more.

I really, really hoped he hadn't watched the trial.

When I got to the mental ward floor, the first thing I did was look for Dr. Aurelius. It was pretty easy to find him that night, since he was looking for me, too.

He flagged me down from the nurses' station and led me into his office. "I need to discuss something with you, Haymitch. It's about Katniss," he said, shutting the door behind him.

"Hold on - did the boy watch any of the trial? He didn't sneak away and catch some on the lobby television or at the nurses' station?" I asked.

"Absolutely not," Aurelius confirmed with an emphatic shake of his head. "We made sure of it. In fact, he spent all of his time in his own room today, except for a visit with Mrs. Odair, who was also on orders to avoid the trial."

I let out a deep breath and slumped down, relieved that Peeta was protected from the day's events. "What is it you wanted to talk about, Doc?" I asked, raising my head to look him in the eyes.

"I watched the trial today. In your closing argument, you proposed to the tribunal that Ms. Everdeen be released to your care, return to her home in District Twelve and still be a patient of mine. You should have talked to me about it first, Haymitch. I need to make sure we're clear that it is impossible for me to leave the Capitol in order to treat her," he said.

"Well, I didn't expect you'd build a summer house there and retire, but I was counting on you coming to visit sometimes to see her progress," I said. I put my hands in my hair and fisted handfuls of it. How could I not work this detail out? I had worked out everything else, and now this one detail could make everything fall apart.

He shook his head in distress. "If I didn't have so many patients and responsibilities here, I could have probably done that. But it's not possible. We have a waiting list miles long of people traumatized and suffering from numerous mental conditions who need medical care. Not to mention all of the patients in the other floors of the hospital still recovering from the war. And may I remind you, one of those patients is your other Victor? His burns are healing well, but he's recovering from a hijacking - I mean, he's actually recovering! This is unprecedented, but it's still a very fragile process. Right now, I am one of the few people he trusts, and I can't risk that trust or his recovery for another patient right now, even if that patient is Katniss."

"Ok, we've got to be able to work something out," I said, feeling frantic. The entire plea bargain was counting on the ability to let Katniss be released into a safe environment where medical care for her mental disease was available. This could ruin everything.

"There is one possible solution, but I don't know if she will go for it," he said.

"I really don't care what she'll agree to if it means keeping her alive and getting her free," I said. "What's the idea?"

"I can call her and hold her sessions by phone. That way, I can stay in the Capitol and be closer to my patients - to Peeta. But the phone sessions will allow me to assess her condition and make adjustments to her treatment plans and medications as needed. The only caveat is, she has to agree to participate. She has to answer the phone, and actually talk to me. That's not something she's enjoyed in the past," he said.

"I'll make her do it," I said. And when I said it, I had every intention of following through on that. But in that moment, I would have said anything to get Aurelius and the tribunal to sign off on her release. I didn't know that when I got home, I'd be too overwhelmed with my own demons to force her into anything, or even help her at all. In that moment, I was overflowing with determination and resolution to just make this plea bargain happen. Hell, I would have even promised to stop drinking. For a little bit, at least.

"All right," he agreed. "I'll agree to that, as long as she participates in her treatment. Assuming she is released, of course. But I must say Haymitch, you did an excellent job today. I don't see how they could find her sane enough to knowingly assassinate Coin."

Ha.

Maybe one day, I'd tell him the truth. I doubted it, though.

"Thanks, Doc. I hope you're right," I said, patting him on the back as my heart tried to resume a normal beat. "I'm gonna go visit the boy - how'd he do today?"

"Fine. Like I said, he kept to himself other than a visit to Mrs. Odair's room. He sketched a lot today. He's been working on the same subject for a while."

"What's the subject?" I asked.

He smiled at me. "I'll let him tell you, if he chooses to."

I rolled my eyes. "Right, right. Patient confidentiality and all that shit."

"Pretty much," he said. "Have a good visit."

I shook the doc's hand and moved down the familiar hall towards Peeta's room. Looking through the window in his door, I could see him sitting on his bed and looking intently at his sketchbook, making a few final strokes with a pencil. I could not see the sketch from my view through the door, just that it looks like a drawing of a person. He looked up from the paper and saw me, waving for me to come in.

"Hey there, Mr. Big Shot Legal Guy," he joked, closing the sketchbook.

"Don't start," I said. "I'm just glad this is almost over." Pain flashed across his face before I could correct myself. I didn't mean that it was almost over for Katniss - not in a bad way, at least. Not in an "executed for crimes against the nation" way. I wanted to tell him that it was going to be okay - that Katniss WOULD be released tomorrow. I wanted to assure him that she was going to have a happy ending, and so was he. That for once, I had saved them both.

But promises that are meant for tomorrow mean nothing today. Until the tribunal actually gave the verdict, I didn't want to take anything for granted.

"I have a good feeling about tomorrow, kid. Things are gonna be okay for her," I said carefully.

"Thank you, Haymitch," he said.

I shrugged my shoulders. "It's just a feeling."

"No," he said. "I mean, thank you for standing up for her. And for not putting me on the stand."

I nodded, surprised at his gratitude although I shouldn't have been. No one should have ever been surprised by anything good from the boy. "You said you didn't think you could, and I respect that." And he was right when he said he had been performing for the last two years. Always in front of the camera, even if the moment was real. To ask him to sit in front of all of Panem and talk about his trauma with the girl... I just couldn't do it to him. I may have failed at protecting him before, but it didn't mean I wasn't still trying in any little way I could.

"How did the trial go?" he asked, trying to hide the hesitation and fear in his voice and failing completely. "Do I want to know?"

I tried to give him a casual smile. "It went well. Like I said, I think we're gonna have good news tomorrow, kid."

He shrugged his shoulders and placed the closed sketchbook on the bed, keeping his hand on the cover as if to keep it safe. "You will. Katniss will. It doesn't matter for me. I'll still be here."

"Aurelius says you're getting better," I said, trying to make him hopeful. "I really don't think you're gonna be here forever."

"What about Aurelius? If Katniss goes to Twelve, is he going to go, too?" he asked.

"No, not at all. He's going to stay here and take care of his patients. He's gonna take care of you." _I'm so sorry you need someone to take care of you. I'm sorry I couldn't stop them from breaking you. I'm sorry you had to go to the Arena. I'm sorry I had to. I'm sorry I made the Capitol mad so many years ago, and that they destroyed everyone I ever loved._

He looked at the floor, nodding slowly. "He will. Not you."

_I'm sorry._ "I have to go with Katniss, kid."

He looked up at me. "Maybe Aurelius will do a better job taking care of me than you did."

A dull knife to the chest would not have hurt as much as that did. Especially since he was right. "I deserved that. I failed you, and I'm sorry."

He took a deep breath and exhaled before continuing. "I'm not. You needed to save her, because she's the Mockingjay and you needed her to start your great big war. Besides, I asked you to save her, didn't I? Real or not real?"

I didn't think he remembered that. The morning after the reading of the card, when Peeta stormed into my house and made me swear to make sure Katniss survived the Quarter Quell. I agreed before I knew he was about to take all my liquor from me.

"You did. Real, I mean. You remember?" I asked.

"I've been remembering more things lately," he said. "Sometimes I write them down so I can ask people about them later. Some of them, I try to sketch them out."

"Aurelius told me you've been sketching one subject for a bit," I said.

"I have. I'm trying to sketch a memory. The problem is, when it happened, I was so overcome with the venom and the hijacking that I saw something different. But now that it's clearing, I'm remembering what it really looked like," he said.

"Can you show me?" I asked.

He opened the sketchbook up and turned to the last page. There was no mistaking the subject - it was Katniss. She looked wild-eyed and frazzled, wearing the plain grey clothing from Thirteen. She's running towards the artist with her arms outstretched.

"When I woke up in Thirteen," he began, "I was surrounded by doctors and nurses who were asking questions and shining lights in my eyes. I didn't know where I was, or what was happening. I thought I was still in the Capitol, about to be tortured again, until I saw Katniss. When I saw her, that hijacking took over and all of a sudden, I saw a mutt instead of Katniss. I saw these big, snarling fangs and blood dripping from her hands that were reached out towards me. So I... well, you know. But it's clearer now... how she really looked when she saw me."

I look back at the drawing and I can see it - the open mouth that's threatening to break into a huge grin, the wide eyes that aren't filled with fear, but something else. The anticipation running through her fingertips as she reaches out for Peeta - to touch him, to embrace him, to kiss him.

This is a picture of Katniss in love.

"It's beautiful, kid," I said, and handed it back to him. He allowed a tiny smile to flicker on his face and thanked me.

"Have you thought about what's next for you, kid?" I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders, and the smile stayed on his face. "I figured we'd play some chess."

"Past that," I said.

The smile got bigger. "I'm pretty sure there's chicken on tomorrow's menu."

"I mean outside of here, smartass," I said. "What you want to do when you get better and get out of here?"

"I don't even know if that's possible, Haymitch. I know I'm getting better, but I don't know if I'll ever be well enough to leave. I might be stuck here."

"No," I said. "That's not happening. I'll make sure of it."

"Just take care of her, okay? Don't worry about me," he said.

There he went again, trying to keep others safe. He would have made an excellent Mentor. I'm so thankful he never had to be one. I looked down to the floor. "It's my job to worry about the both of you," I said.

"I don't know what I want in my future. I won't allow myself to think of that yet. I just hope I have a future," he said.

I looked at him. "We all hope that, kid."

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Only one more chapter and an epilogue left! I'm on tumblr at fnurfnur. Come and play with me!


	11. Chapter 10

_I don't own or hold any rights to The Hunger Games or its characters. I don't even own my car. _

_The final chapter is here, with only an epilogue left after this! Huge thanks to alonglineofbread for being my buddy, my therapist, and the one holding my hand as I wrote this - oh, and my beta, too. Also thanks to jeeno2, manniness and bleedtoloveher for reading this and giving me their feedback. _

"We, the tribunal chosen to hear the matter of The People of Panem vs. Katniss Everdeen, have found the defendant, Katniss Everdeen, on the charge of the assassination of Alma Coin, not guilty by reason of insanity and diminished capacity. The defendant will be released immediately to the care of her mentor and defense representative, Haymitch Abernathy, and relocated to District Twelve, where she must stay and receive ongoing remote treatment for her mental illness from her primary psychiatric physician, Dr. Aurelius, until such time that the tribunal deem her mentally fit and no longer a danger to herself or society. This concludes this matter, and we thank the representatives from both sides. This tribunal is adjourned."

And that was it.

_Holy shit, it worked._

It was a private courtroom so the only ones who heard the verdict were the tribunal, Livilla and I, and the cameraman who was broadcasting it live to the entire nation, including those gathered around a big screen in City Circle. They, and the rest of Panem, were watching it on a ten second delay Paylor had insisted upon, in case Livilla or I decided to stray from our "script". We all held our breath, waiting for the reaction of the crowd outside.

Nine seconds. I looked up at Paylor, and nodded my head just the tiniest bit in gratitude.

Eight seconds. The other tribunal members began gathering their papers, acting exactly as they should.

Seven seconds. I looked at Livilla, whose jaw was set in that perfect mix of stoic resolve and disappointment. She was good.

Six seconds. I looked down at the papers in front of me. The words had blurred together and I realized I was crying.

Five seconds. My hands were shaking. Why were they shaking? I had just won. I knew I was going to win.

Four seconds. My heart was racing. I turned my head from the camera to wipe a shaky hand against my eyes before the tears could fall.

Three seconds. Maybe it was because I was afraid.

Two seconds. I was afraid the entire nation would rise up against Katniss and I, because of their love for Coin. And when the nation hears the verdict, it will be chaos.

One second. _Please let us get out of here alive._

The sound of the crowd's reaction was explosive, and so very loud. It was a sound I hadn't heard in so long, and never in this amount. It was the sound the crowds made when Peeta and Katniss were reunited on stage after their victory in the Arena. It was the sound we made in Thirteen when Finnick and Annie became man and wife. It was the sound an entire district made when their new Victors arrived home, safe and sound. It was the sound all of City Circle made when their Mockingjay first walked out of the president's mansion before an adoring crowd, just few weeks ago.

It was the cheering sound made from pure, unadulterated joy. It was the cries made when there is hope that turns suddenly into happiness, when your greatest fear turns into overwhelming relief.

The sound of their happiness washed over me, and I could no longer keep those tears from falling down my face. I only hoped that the camera was now focusing on Caesar and Fulvia in the studio or the elated crowds outside and not the tears of an old man.

The light of the camera inside the room turned off, and the cameraman confirmed that the footage inside the tribunal was complete. I wiped my face with my sleeve and walked over to Livilla and reached out my hand. She clasped mine and we covered our handshake with our other hand in gratitude and respect. She may have been arguing the other side, but I couldn't have held her in higher esteem than I did in that moment.

"Hell of a show, Lieutenant," I said with a shaky smile.

"Hell of a job, my friend," she replied.

We let go of each other at the same time, and I knew she'd be okay. She had more than proven herself as an intelligent, quick-thinking, politically savvy person and the government would be better with her in it.

I walked up to the tribunal and shook each of their hands, saving Paylor for last. "Thank you, President Paylor," I said.

"I've notified the guards outside of her door to let you enter," she said. "There will be a medical team right behind you to get her nourished, hydrated and cleaned up before she can go home with you. Once you're both ready, a hovercraft will be gassed and ready to take you to Twelve."

She stopped smiling and held my hand firmly, making sure she had my full attention. "Take care of her, Mr. Abernathy. If you can't, make sure someone does. Don't make me regret this."

I nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I promise."

I braced myself for a media frenzy as soon as I open the courtroom doors into the hallway, but it was quiet and nearly empty. The only one there was Plutarch, standing against the wall and waiting for me.

"Excellent job, Mr. Defense Representative," he said, shaking my hand.

"Please tell me that all of Panem didn't just see me cry," I asked.

"No, we cut away to the crowd reaction. We still got footage of it though. I think I'll save that gem for my personal collection," he said with a wry smile.

"Thank you for testifying," I said, and I really meant it. Plutarch was practically our star witness, other than Aurelius.

"Thank you for not exposing me. Well, any more than you already did," he said.

"You're not still holding a grudge about that, are you?" I joked.

He laughed, but I don't think he found my joke funny. "I underestimated you, Haymitch. I won't make that mistake again. In a way, I'm glad you told Paylor what Coin and I did."

"Mostly Coin. She did the most damage," I corrected.

"Yes, but I'm definitely not innocent," he admitted. "Maybe confession is good for the soul - I think I read that once. I've certainly been able to sleep a lot better ever since you played that tape. It doesn't change what I did, and it doesn't bring anyone back. But at least this administration isn't as likely to make Coin's mistakes. Maybe we will have some peace this time. At least, during our lifetime."

"I hope so," I said. "Of course, that's not saying much for a couple of old men like us."

"Speak for yourself, Haymitch," he said with a scoff. I laughed and he slapped my back in a friendly gesture (I think). "Listen, would it be all right if I hitched a ride on your hovercraft? They're still in short supply, and I need to head to Three to see Beetee."

"Beetee went home already?" I asked.

"Are you kidding? He couldn't get out of here fast enough. Can you blame him?"

No, I couldn't. "What about you? Will you stay in the Capitol?" I asked.

He smiled, holding a faraway look in his eyes. "The Capitol is my home, my stage, my place of work. It will always be my home. Besides, can you imagine me in Twelve? Thirteen was horrible enough, and they had constant electricity and hot showers."

The idea of Plutarch living in Twelve was actually pretty damn funny, so I laughed. I pictured him trading his fine robes for miner's coveralls, and dining on dandelion leaves and squirrel instead of Capitol cuisine. Before I knew it, we were both laughing like old friends.

Once we caught our breath and settled down, I nodded to him. "You can hitch a ride with us. Just don't freak her out."

He raised his eyebrows at me and pretended to be offended. "I could ask the same of you, you know."

"I mean it, Plutarch. Please don't ask her about joining that singing show," I said, sticking my index finger in his chest.

He shrugged. "No promises, Haymitch."

I sighed, knowing that this was a losing battle. In the end, Plutarch would say what he wanted and make jokes, even though anyone from outside the Capitol rarely found them funny. "I'm going to get her now. It might take them awhile to clean her up and get her ready. I'll let you know when we have a departure time."

"Excellent! I'll see you and our Mockingjay very soon!" he said in his most chipper and Capitol-like tone. I hoped he didn't think Katniss would chatty and camera-ready when he saw her. It didn't matter - I'd tell him to shut up and back off if needed. All that mattered in that moment was to free the girl from her prison. I got to save her one more time.

Normally, the fastest way to get to the Training Center from the mansion's east wing where the trial was held would be to cross City Circle. But that was impossible at the time with thousands of cheering people celebrating in my path. Thankfully, a guard came up to me by the mansion's doors and offered to take me to the Training Center via the underground passageway. I accepted his offer gratefully, and took a look at him. He was the same kid I yelled at when Katniss was first taken away. The one who was doing his job by keeping me away from Katniss, but looked downright terrified when I asked him if she was being taken away for execution.

"What's your name, kid?" I asked as he led me through darkened concrete hallways illuminated by emergency lights.

"Tacitus. Soldier Tacitus, sir," he replied.

"Now that you're no longer keeping people away from the Mockingjay, what are you going to do, Soldier?" I asked.

"I'm sure the military will find a good task for me. Besides, I've been busy writing everything down. This is a new beginning for our country. Someone should write it down as it happens so we can look back on it and see if our decisions were right," he said with a shrug.

I stopped walking for a split second and realized how this kid was both wistfully naive and incredibly wise at the same time. "That's a good idea, kid. You should keep doing that. Tell the truth, and don't let anyone influence what you should write."

"Why would someone do that?" he asked.

Yup. Naive.

"Never mind," I said. A few minutes of silence passed before we reached the underground elevator entrance to the Training Center.

"Do you need me to escort you up, sir?" he asked.

"No thanks, kid. I'm way too familiar with this place already." I thanked him, and he saluted me - the kid actually fucking _saluted_ me - and turned back down the tunnel as I pressed the button for the elevator.

Every time I had ever ridden this elevator, it had taken me one step closer to someone's death. Usually, the death of two kids. This time, since it was bringing me closer to freeing Katniss, I could turn and look through the glass windows and appreciate the sight before me. The Capitol looked nothing like it did in its heyday - hell, nothing like it did less than a year ago. But I could see people from all over the country cheering together in City Circle. I could see people helping each other to rebuild and move on with their lives. I could see a landscape before me that was beautiful, not because of artificial colors and blinding lights from the Capitol parties, but because of the slow but meaningful progress that hope can bring. It was beautiful because our country was working together to rebuild it, and make it better.

I was so engrossed in the landscape below me that I didn't even notice I had reached the 12th floor until the doors dinged open and the guards called my name. They had been expecting me, one of them said, and I didn't miss the barely restrained smiles on their faces. "Go on in," one of them said. "Her team is a minute behind you to get her ready."

What could I have said to her? Should I have told her everything? Did she need to know? Did she want to know? All I could do at that point was get her out of there.

I opened the door, and the smell of sweaty skin and old sheets filled my nose. She was lying on the mattress with one unfocused eye cracked open towards me. She was emaciated, and greasy, and empty. She was the most welcome sight I have ever seen.

"Your trial's over," I said. "Come on. We're going home."

Her brow furrowed in confusion and her cracked lips parted to ask a question, but before I could even offer an explanation, half a dozen people dressed in white sterile nursing uniforms came in behind me and led her to the bathroom, out of my sight. The guards came into the room and told me that she should be ready to go in about an hour and a half.

That left 90 minutes to say goodbye to my life here. If it weren't for Peeta, I wouldn't need more than five.

I rushed back to the mansion and grabbed my bags. They were packed last night, but I figured it would be rude to bring packed bags to a courtroom. Sure, the verdict was supposed to be a sure thing, but no need to rub it in.

My next stop was the hospital. I knew Mrs. Everdeen was busy with patients and an overflowing hospital, so I didn't expect her to leave with us right away. I hoped she would have been able to come out in a day or two - a week at most.

I tried to ask for her at the front desk, but before I could get a word out, the nurses at the admissions desk came out from behind the desk and embraced me. I stiffened up - the threat Snow always hung over my head of my post-Victor career made me uncomfortable with strangers touching me. Lucky for all of us, the embrace was brief, and they point me towards Mrs. Everdeen's current location.

_What the hell was that about?_ I saw the smiling faces of patients, nurses, doctors, and everyone else in my path as I tried to find Mrs. Everdeen. They all wanted to shake my hand or thank me or give me a hug. I tried to shrug it off as much as possible. I just wanted to go home.

I poked my head in the supply room and saw her - sitting on the floor, a few pieces of paper in her hands, and crying. Lily Everdeen looked up and met my eyes before struggling to her feet. I reached out my hand to help and she grabbed it, pulling me towards her in a hug.

"Thank you, Haymitch. Thank you, thank you, thank you," she whispered in my ear. "Thank you for saving her life again."

I have never been good with gratitude or compliments or really any sort of positive emotion, but I tried to make the effort for her. "It's my job, Mrs. Everdeen. I'm her Mentor."

She released me and wiped the tears from her tired eyes with one hand, the sheets of paper gathered in the other.

"I know you're really busy here, so I didn't know when you thought you'd be ready to come back to Twelve with her. We're leaving in just over an hour, but I can make sure a hovercraft is available to you whenever you're ready to go," I said.

She nodded sadly, a fresh wave of tears sliding down her cheeks. "Haymitch, I need you to give Katniss something. Would you do that for me - for her?"

"Sure, what is it?" I asked.

The pieces of paper were carefully folded and put into an envelope, already marked with Katniss's name in delicate, looping letters. "It's an explanation, and an apology. I can't come back, Haymitch. I don't think I ever can."

She told me that she had been asked to help set up a hospital in District Four, and that she had an opportunity to help so many people - an opportunity she wouldn't have had in Twelve. But mostly, she told me that she couldn't take care of Katniss - she hadn't been able to for years. And that every street, every house and corner of Twelve held bad memories and nightmares for her. As much as she loved Katniss, she couldn't live in a graveyard.

I understood. I wished I didn't understand, and I wished I didn't sympathize. There was a part of me that wanted to be mad at her for Katniss's sake, and to tell her that she was abandoning her only living child. But I couldn't, because I understood.

"I'll give her the letter, Mrs. Everdeen," I said.

"Call me Lily. After all of this... just, call me Lily," she said.

I reached out and grabbed her hand, and squeezed it in what I hoped was a comforting gesture. "Goodbye, Lily."

"Goodbye, Haymitch."

I put the envelope in my jacket pocket, and gave her a sympathetic smile as I opened the door to the supply room. She sat back down on the floor - "I need a few more minutes in here," she said while wiping her eyes - and nodded at me as I left.

When I made my way to the elevator, it was suddenly harder to return everyone's smiles and accept their praise. Thankfully, I grabbed an elevator to myself and rode to the seventh floor in silence, preparing myself to say goodbye to the boy.

Dr. Aurelius had just left Peeta's room as I got off the elevator. "I gave him the good news. I hope that's okay," Aurelius said.

I nodded, hoping the doc couldn't tell I had been crying. "That's fine. I'm here to say goodbye more than anything else. Got a hovercraft waiting for me and the girl for a one-way trip to Twelve."

He gave me a sheet of paper that listed his schedule, Katniss's medication list and his office phone number. "Here's my information. I'll call her everyday for the first week, and Katniss and I will establish how often we need to have phone sessions after that. If she ever needs me, or if you have any questions, please don't hesitate to call. I'm here to help."

I folded the paper and put it in my jacket pocket, next to Mrs. Everdeen's letter. "Thanks, doc. Just take good care of the boy."

Aurelius smiled and nodded, so sure of the future. "We will. He's making remarkable progress, even if he doesn't always see it. If he continues on this path, we may be able to release him in as little as a few months."

"Where would he go?" I asked. It was the same question I asked Peeta, but maybe Aurelius would be able to actually answer it.

"That would be up to him. He's 18 now and we're supposedly a free nation. He can go wherever he wants," Aurelius said.

It was true. People would now be able to travel and live in any district they wanted, not stuck in the one they happened to be born in. Would Peeta want to travel? Did he remember anything from the Victory Tour - the white sandy beaches in District Four, the expanse of verdant fields in District Eleven, the hush of silver-tipped trees in District Seven? Would he want to make a new home there? Would it be better for him if he did?

I didn't say any of that. Instead, I just nodded and thanked the good doctor. He said, "We'll be in touch," and walked away.

Peeta opened the door before I had a chance to knock. "Hey," he said. "I thought I heard you out here."

"You heard right," I said as I walked in to his room. "So, the doc told you?" I asked, looking for signs of his reaction.

He smiled - a real smile, with teeth and everything. "I did. I'm happy for her - for both of you, actually."

I couldn't help but smile back. "Thanks, kid."

"Have you seen her yet? How is she?" he asked.

I scratched my nose as I tried to come up with an answer other than "beats me". "I only saw her for a minute before some nurses took her away to get fed and cleaned up. But, she's good, I think." I laughed a little, hoping it would be okay to joke. "Kinda smelly, actually. Hopefully the nurses will take care of that."

He chuckled a bit and nodded. "I'm sure they will."

I stopped smiling and held my breath. I don't like saying goodbye. Never have, never will. Especially to him. "Listen, Peeta..."

The smile fell from his face and he sat down on his bed. "This must be serious if you're calling me by my name."

I huffed out a quick laugh and sat next to him on the bed. "Katniss and I are leaving for Twelve right away. Less than an hour, actually."

He nodded, and reached under his bed. "We better get a game started, then. I don't have much time to beat you before you leave." He pulled the chess board out, and set it on the table for us to play. I have to admit, I almost started crying again in relief.

After twenty minutes, he had my queen on the run and my king wasn't looking so good, either. The game would be over soon, and I would have to leave him.

"Are you gonna be okay here?" I asked gently. "I'm not gonna be here to... play chess with you."

He smiled and moved his knight. "It's okay. I'm teaching Annie how to play. Sometimes, Dr. Aurelius plays while we have a therapy session. And there are other patients, and other nurses and doctors I can talk to. I mean, play chess with."

"You're gonna be okay, Peeta. I believe in you. You're stronger than the rest of us put together." I wanted to tell him more. He should be told that he's better than me. That while Katniss didn't deserve him after a hundred lifetimes, I didn't deserve him after a million. That there were countless things in my whole life I'd done wrong, but the only one I really regretted was not protecting him. But I didn't say that, because I'm not good at that kind of thing.

"Thank you, Haymitch." And he understood.

I looked back down at the board, trying to keep those stupid tears from showing up again. "And damnit kid, you got much better at chess. How the hell did that happen?"

He smiles as he moves his bishop. "Checkmate."

It was time.

I stood up, not sure if I should hug him or shake his hand, or if he wanted me to even touch him. He decided for me by patting my back and meeting my eyes, nodding his head with a tight smile.

"Take care of yourself," he said. "And her, please."

"I will." I won't. Not as well as he could.

I moved to the door, and remembered something. "Doc says you might get out of here in a few months, you know."

He smiled again, this one hopeful. "I know."

"Want me to tell her anything for you?" _Please tell her you're coming back, please tell her you're coming back.._.

He stopped to think for a moment, then shook his head. "No thanks. She's got enough to process, I'm sure. But - ," he paused either thinking of a memory or imagining what was to come and looked down with a smile that's both sweet and shy and so completely him, " - I hope I'll see her soon."

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_Only the epilogue is left! Come find me on tumblr as fnurfnur. _


	12. Chapter 12

_Here's the very end. As always, I hold no rights over The Hunger Games or its characters. But I've had a hell of a time writing this fic. HUGE thanks to wollaston for being this story's biggest cheerleader and best beta, and holding my hand while I researched and stewed over it for several months. Thank you to everyone who has read, followed, favorited and reviewed this story. I hope you've enjoyed it. _

* * *

The phone rang and as usual, I was immediately pissed.

Anytime the phone rang in my house, it was always someone bothering me about the girl.

_"Haymitch, this is Dr. Aurelius. Why won't she answer my calls?"_

_"Haymitch, this is Lily. Is Katniss doing okay?"_

_"Haymitch, this is Effie. Is there anything I can send to help you take care of Katniss?"_

I was too ashamed to admit to them that I had failed - utterly and completely broken down - in taking care of Katniss. It was absolutely my intention to take care of her and fulfill my promise to everyone - to Peeta, Mrs. Everdeen, the tribunal. But intentions mean nothing when you live in a district that's now a graveyard. As soon as I dropped her off at her house and walked inside mine, everything came screaming back. The nightmares. The loneliness. The anger. The liquor.

So I drank because it felt like it was what I did best - but it wasn't like drinking in the Capitol when I was focusing on saving Katniss. In Victor's Village - my prison for twenty-four years - I was surrounded by the ghosts of dead children, soldiers, and loved ones. Drinking made it better; drinking made it worse. I spent the first night emptying bottles down my throat and chasing ghosts out of my house, my nightmares, my mind.

I don't know what time it was the next day when I woke up, but I know who woke me up, and how. Greasy Sae may have been about 500 years old, but she swung a mean soup ladle.

Once I was surrounded by my demons again, I couldn't even take care of myself. But I didn't forget about the girl. That morning, Sae started taking care of Katniss because I failed. I just gave Sae as much money as she could carry and asked her to take care of her. Because we both knew I wouldn't. I couldn't.

I didn't see the girl for months, but Sae told me she was alive. Or at least, her heart was still beating. It didn't seem like she was living all that much when she just sat in her rocking chair and buried herself in grief. But of course, it was pretty close to what I was doing. We always were alike.

Eventually, Peeta came back. So Katniss did too. I knew he could take better care of her than I ever could.

Still, people called me about her. All the time. Every time that phone rang, it pulled me from my selfish peace and quiet and reminded me that I failed. So whenever it rang and I bothered to answer, I was not in a good mood.

"WHAT?" I yelled into the phone.

"Good morning to you too, Haymitch. Don't tell me you aren't thrilled to speak to me," Plutarch said.

"If you're calling me to ask about that stupid singing show, the answer is the same as it was before - Katniss will never do it," I said.

"First of all, that is not why I am calling," Plutarch said. "Second of all, I am never giving up hope on that. She could compete, or be a judge! Even just come on once for a featured performance or to mentor the contestants! She never got to be a mentor in the Games, this is her chance!"

"You're a real piece of shit, you know that?" I asked.

"It takes one to know one, thank you. How is she doing?" he asked.

I sat down on the floor and pushed my too-long hair out of my eyes. I no longer needed to be gussied up for Games or Victory Tours, but there were no stylists alive to keep me looking neat. Maybe I could talk Sae into giving me a haircut. "She's better since the boy came back. At least now she combs her hair and goes outside once in a while."

Peeta returned 18 weeks and 4 days after we came home. Once he was done planting bushes for the girl and got a good look at her - saw the terrible job I had done of taking care of her - he came into my house and punched me in the face. I deserved it. We've all been better ever since. The girl hunts. The boy bakes. I drink.

"Any chance we could send a camera to capture their rekindled romance?" Plutarch asked, far too hopeful.

I rolled my eyes so hard, he probably heard it on the other end. "If you send a camera here, I'll piss on it. Why are you really calling?" I asked.

Plutarch chuckled. "Believe it or not, I did not call just to hear your charming voice. The reason I'm calling is to give you a heads up. I'd like you to go to the train station tomorrow, I'm sending you a package tonight."

"Do I need to be worried?" I asked. Sometimes I would turn on the television just to make sure our government had not collapsed, or that a rebellion had not started up again, or that our joke of a trial had not been exposed.

"It depends. Technically, the package is for Katniss. But I'm not sure if it's something she is ready to see. I'll leave that up to your discretion," he said.

"Plutarch," I warned. "I don't like surprises."

"It's fine," he said, trying to assure me. "Katniss has received some letters, and Dr. Aurelius advised us to hold onto them until she's progressed farther in her treatment. She must be doing better, because the good doctor gave the okay to send them this morning."

Paylor's administration was still trying to establish a mail system so that the districts could send mail to each other. It wasn't in place before because communication between districts was never allowed, and setting it up was taking a while because any spare money usually went to something more critical. Until it was set up, all mail from the districts went to the Capitol to be sorted, then the trains took each district's share to them.

"That's the boy's influence," I said. "But she is definitely doing better."

"I'm glad. I don't know what's in the letters, but they're from all over. People have been writing to her from every district as well as the Capitol. Most were after the trial, but she still gets at least one or two a week, even now," he said.

"Do you think any of them are angry?" I asked.

"I doubt it. People still love her. It's not just _ME_ who wants her on 'Panem Superstar', you know," he boasted.

There went the eye roll again. "Right, right," I mumbled.

"How are you doing?" he asked. It actually sounded like he truly wanted to know.

"Fine," I said. "Every day is fine. I wake up, I eat, I drink, I sit on my porch, I get a little closer to death, then I sleep."

Plutarch made a 'tsk' noise into the phone, and sighed. "Maybe you should get a hobby."

"I hate hobbies," I said.

"Maybe you should get a pet," he said.

"I hate pets," I said.

"You should get a pet that annoys most people. It would be a perfect match for you!" he said.

I really had not missed the way that Capitol people could obliviously insult you in regular conversation. "Why, because I also annoy most people?" I asked.

"I know just the thing. I'll send it to you with Katniss's letters," he said, ignoring my question.

"If you send me a pet, I'm gonna have the girl shoot it and the boy cook it," I threatened.

"I don't believe you could," he said.

"You're wrong," I said. But he was right.

The next day, I snuck over to the train station after Katniss had left for her daily hunt and Peeta was already elbow-deep in flour. There were two packages waiting for me. An incredibly large muslin bag almost as tall as me, and a small box with holes in the sides. I paid a couple of older kids to carry it all home for me. Since the war finished and I came home, it felt like I had aged about forty years in six months and carrying large, heavy items wasn't good for my health.

In the privacy of my home, I opened the box first. Two little gray fluffy critters with big feet looked up at me. I cursed Plutarch's name out loud. That little shit had sent me baby geese.

They weren't big enough to eat, so there was no sense in giving them to Katniss or Peeta. Besides, that ugly cat of hers would probably eat them himself. I sighed and put the box on the kitchen table, then threw in some bread leftover from the boy's delivery yesterday. _I'm just holding onto them until they get big enough to eat,_ I thought. _These are not my pets._

While those little feather bags gobbled up the bread, I opened the larger bag and examined the contents. There must have been 500 letters in there, maybe more. I knew it wasn't my business to pry into them, but I wasn't about to give them to the girl without making sure they weren't going to hurt her.

I was only going to read one or two, but I couldn't stop reading them. Every single envelope contained a little piece of hope, something that bolstered my belief in the future of humanity.

_Thank you for helping my Grandma Mags. Sometimes she was hard to understand, but you did. She liked you - I could tell._

_You and Mr. Mellark survived every time, even though the odds were against you every time. Thank you for giving me hope that anything is possible._

_I gave the last of my money to send bread to my friend Rue in the Games. I'm glad you got it if she could not. Thank you for singing her to sleep._

_Thank you for standing up for those who could not, and thank you for being the inspiration we all needed to stop being afraid._

_I'm sorry Prim died. My sister died too, and I feel lost._

_My twin daughters died fighting with you on the Star Squad. I'm glad they died fighting for a cause they believed in, and by your side - you were their hero._

_I didn't like Coin. She did not seem nice to us in Thirteen, even though they rescued us from Twelve. But you did more for us than she ever did._

_I lost my whole family in the war. I'm all alone now - how do you bear it?_

_The Capitol turned me into an Avox and took my voice, and everything I had was lost with it. Thank you for speaking for those who can't, like me._

Sometimes, there were drawings of Katniss tucked in the envelopes - some crudely scrawled pictures from children and some rendered with a deft hand, like Peeta's. There she was in her Mockingjay outfit, in her fiery parade outfit, in her wedding dress. There were pictures of mockingjays and other tributes and Peeta and Prim. They were drawn and sent to show their appreciation, their gratitude, and their support.

"What's wrong?"

My head snapped up at the sound of her voice. I didn't even hear her come in, but that's not a surprise. Her footsteps were still silent, even though the burns on her legs could make it painful for her to walk. There was a full game bag hanging from her hand, and her daddy's bow on her shoulder. I didn't understand why she was looking at me the way she was until I realized I was crying.

"Nothing, sweetheart," I said, wiping at my face with both hands. "Got something in my eyes."

She walked in and looked at the papers spread out across the table. "What is all this?"

My brain immediately tried to come up with a lie to protect her from this, but it was no use. She saw the pictures of her; the letters with her name on them.

"Plutarch sent me your mail. It seems that a bunch of people across the country have been writing to you since we came home."

"Why didn't he send them to me?" she asked.

"He didn't know if you'd want to read them. If you felt ready."

She nods, understanding. "What do you think?"

I speak carefully, choosing my words with caution. "I don't think there's anything in here that would hurt you - not on purpose, anyway. These people wrote to you, but I think most of them did it for themselves."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"They're telling their stories - about the war, their families, their own losses. A lot of them don't seem to have anyone left to share it with. So this is their way of sharing the good memories of everything that's been lost," I said. "Sometimes, it just feels better to tell someone, even if it's just on paper."

She doesn't say anything, but I can tell she's thinking about what I've said. After a minute, she pulls out the chair next to me and picks up a letter. Together, we read them all in silence. When the last envelope has been opened, the sun is getting low in the horizon. We've spent almost the entire day together, reading stories and thanks from across the country.

I started putting letters back in their envelopes until her hand rested on top of mine. She had reached across the table to me, but was staring down at the table with a furrowed brow. She didn't seem to know what to say. Neither did I.

"I never thanked you," she whispered.

"I never expected you to," I said.

I turned my hand over and squeezed hers for a brief moment before pulling my hand back. Neither of us are good at talking or expressing emotions other than anger. Peeta's got the golden voice, but Katniss and I were not blessed with that gift. Sometimes, it's the words we don't say that carry the most weight.

"What are those?" she asked, the tender tone of her voice long gone. I look up and see that she's discovered Plutarch's "present".

"Oh, those," I grumbled. ""Plutarch thought it would be a real hoot to send me baby geese. He thinks I should have a pet."

"Why geese?" she asked, picking up one of the walking feather balls.

I shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe we'll just fatten them up and have them for dinner sometime."

She yelped in pain and dropped the gosling on the table before putting her finger in her mouth. "That one bit me!" she yelled, looking at me with anger. I couldn't stop laughing.

Maybe I would keep them as pets after all.

* * *

_That's all, folks. I'd love to hear what you thought of this story in a review or on tumblr at fnurfnur. _


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